Like, Totally Crazy (HongIce)
by DenNorRusCanHongIce
Summary: Emil thought he was a loner, separated from the other Nordic countries, distant from the world. Like your typical teenager, he thought nobody understood him. But then he meets Leon, and realizes that the two are a lot e two bond over their dysfunctional families and form a close friendship. However Iceland soon begins to realize that he is feeling more than that...
1. Chapter 1

Emil walked out of the Meeting Room, yawning. Like always, absolutely nothing had been solved. Everybody had just fought and argued, like they always do, and no resolution for anything ever came up. The Icelandic nation made an irritated noise as he watched the other immature nations goofing off.

He sighed and adjusted his jacket and continued walking alongside his older brother, Lukas, otherwise known as the Norway. Sometimes, he just felt so distant from everybody else...

"Hey, Ice! What's the matter? Why the long face?" Denmark laughed, putting his arm around Iceland's shoulders. Iceland glared at him but said nothing, and shrugged him away. Norway frowned and reached his hand out to grab Iceland's, but Iceland began walking faster.

"Iceland!" Norway said, jogging to keep up with the younger nation. "Iceland, what's wrong?"

Iceland ignored his older brother and shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked out into the snowy parking lot, the nations splitting up to go to their own separate cars or car pools.

"Go away, I don't want to talk to you," Iceland scowled as he walked towards the street. How could any of them understand? He was much younger than them, much, much younger, and they wouldn't understand how he was feeling.

"Iceland, where are you going? The car is this way, your driving home with us, remember? Iceland?" Norway frowned at the younger nation as he continued towards the street.

"I can find my own way home, thanks," Emil muttered, "I'm not a little kid anymore. Besides, we're in Finland, it's not really that far away from home."

"Iceland, it's a two-days-worth journey, what are you going to do, walk?" Norway scowled. Iceland ignored the older nation and turned away from him. Norway gave up and turned away, walking back to the car.

Iceland cast a glance over his shoulder and sighed, running his hands through his hair. He was alone these days, for the most part, feeling distanced from the other older nations and apart from any other country.

He looked on either side and saw no cars coming, so he crossed the street to the other side of the busy city, trying not to think of how exactly he was going to get home. He actually didn't feel like walking... Damn, he was stuck walking now...

It was then that he realized he was being watched. It was a prickling feeling on the back of his neck that grew uncomfortable, so he glanced back to see one of the East Asian nations across the parking lot staring at him.

Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before the Asian turned away, adjusting the collar slightly on his suit before casting a glance at a car, people inside it shouting things that Iceland could hear,

"SOUTH KOREA, STOP ARU!"

and Japan's voice say,

"I'm just going to car pool with Germany and Italy, thanks!"

and saw Japan stumble out of the car as the other Asian nation gave a scoff and walked past the packed car, obviously full of the East Asian nations, and watched him get into a small black car.

Iceland returned his attention to how he was going to get home. After being a stubborn bitch about not getting into the car, he was stuck walking...

He thought about taking the bus and checked his pockets for his wallet, then realized that he had left his wallet in the car. Damn.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Iceland realized he still had his phone...He decided that no, he wasn't going to walk home, despite how stubborn he had been a minute before.

It was at that precise moment that something came up, something that could probably change his whole future, if he were to answer correctly.

At that moment, a shiny, sleek black car rolled smoothly next to him and the window rolled down, and a slightly older-looking Asian peeked out, Iceland recognizing him as the Asian from before, his golden eyes being as emotionless as his brother's and choppy dark brown hair framing his face.

"Your name is, like, Iceland, right?" He asked, raising a slightly thick eyebrow, "You totally look like you need, like, a ride home."

Iceland paused, frowning. Should he say yes or no? The offer was polite, and he didn't really want to call the others and tell them to come pick him up...

But then again he didn't really know this kid...

He could be an axe murder for all he knew...

This was a choice that could possibly change his whole destiny. Say yes and get in the car with the Asian kid or say no and pretend nothing ever happened? Somehow Iceland knew this question weighted heavily on his future...

But he wasn't really a believer in that kind of stuff, so he didn't really put much thought into it.

The Asian nation waited patiently for him to answer, his fingers drumming the seat of the passenger's side of the car. Finally, Iceland said,

"I hardly even know you..."

The shadow of a smile flickered across the Asian nation's face but it quickly vanished, like it had simply never existed. Still lacking emotion, he shrugged one shoulder and asked,

"Want to change that? There's, like, a Starbucks somewhere around here."

Iceland continued stalling for thinking time by saying,

"Sorry, but I left my wallet at home..."

"My treat, I guess then," The Asian nation shrugged. Iceland hesitantly placed his hand on the car handle. Some part of his brain was screaming at him,

"DON'T DO IT THIS WILL MESS UP YOUR LIFE ICEY DON'T-"

Iceland withdrew his hand slightly, and the Asian nation watched with a look of interest and fascination, as if he found him intriguing. For some reason it made Iceland uncomfortable, he wasn't really interesting or anything...

"Are you, like, coming? Or no?" The Asian kid asked, still looking patient. Iceland took a deep breath, like he was about to plunge into cold water, and made the decision.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

And he opened the door to the car and slid inside, feeling incredibly awkward.

That was probably the choice that changed his life forever.


	2. Chapter 2

"So where is this place you are taking me?" Iceland frowned at the Asian nation.

"Starbucks. It's, like, really good, and it's just, like, a few blocks down." The Asian said, as they began driving slowly down the road, slow in the afternoon downtown traffic and also driving carefully to avoid the icy patches on the road.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't quite catch your name." Iceland told him, trying not to sound impolite as he shifted around in the black plush car seat, trying to get comfortable; It was softer than he was accustomed to.

"Oh. My name is, like, Hong Kong."

"Oh. I'm Iceland."

"Yeah, I know." Hong Kong said in that monotone voice, choppy brown hair covering his facial features as he turned his head away to glance out at the window.

"Okay..." Iceland decided not to comment on that as he buckled his seat-belt in. Hong Kong drove down the road slowly, as the two sat in awkward silence. After a moment Hong Kong asked,

"Do you like firecrackers?"

"I-Uh-What?" Iceland asked, the question coming out of nowhere and startling the younger nation, not expecting any sort of conversation between the two except introduction.

"I asked if you like firecrackers," Hong Kong repeated. Iceland shifted, uncomfortable in his seat and shrugged one shoulder in response, not really giving the question in matter much thought.

"Me? I love them," Hong Kong said, staring at the road still with a lack of facial expression that reminded Emil of two people he knew, "They are, like, huge in Hong Kong."

"Hmm," Iceland responded, shifting so he was leaning away from the Asian nation, trying not to make it too obvious he didn't want to engage in conversation. After a few moments Hong Kong said,

"You like Chinese food?"

Iceland once again shrugged one shoulder, looking away from Hong Kong. There was another few moments of silence until they pulled up at a Starbucks.

"Well, we're here," Hong Kong said, "Do you, like, want to go inside or, like, drive-thru?"

Iceland nodded to the the Starbucks. He wanted to take as long as possible to get home, because he didn't feel like facing his dysfunctional 'family' any time soon, however was it worth it to be spending time with this kid that he hardly knew?

Iceland was never really one for being social. He had shrugged off the need for friends like his brother a long time time ago and simply ignored everybody, like your typical teenage loner. He wasn't good with conversation, at all, and it didn't help that others thought he was weird.

As he stepped out of the car, he noticed Hong Kong giving him a funny look, for once giving some sort of emotion on his face before it quickly passed and he opened his car door, stepping out and closing it.

They stared at each other silently for a few seconds, Iceland on one side of the car and Hong Kong on the other. Iceland was trying to read his expression, but this kid was like Norway: Completely unreadable.

After another second of staring as people walked in and out of the popular cafe joint with the traffic behind them rumbling, Iceland finally looked away as Hong Kong said,

"Well, let's, like, go inside, then."

Iceland nodded and the two teenaged nations walked inside the busy cafe, Iceland instantly feeling uncomfortable with the number of people around him.

As they waited in line, Iceland thought about the strange Asian teen in front of him. He had seen him at world meetings but had never directly spoken to him, and didn't know anything about him except that he was from the East Asian family and that his name was Hong Kong. Other than that, he knew as much about Hong Kong as the guy behind him did-Next to nothing.

When they finally got to the cashier, Hong Kong cleared his throat, cast a glance at Iceland, then said,

"I would like the Gingerbread Latte please, with, like, extra whipped cream and, like, no molasses please. What do you want?" Hong Kong asked, glancing at him.

"I would like the Caramel Brulèe please, but with no whipped cream and a little bit of cinnamon." Iceland told the lady.

"And two brownies," Hong Kong added, searching his pockets for his wallet as the lady put in their order. After paying, the two teenage nations sat down at a small table, waiting for their drinks and Hong Kong's name to be called.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Iceland's arms crossed and trying to not appear socially awkward or anything, Hong Kong leaning forward on his elbows and watching the people preparing the cafe goodies. After a few moments Hong Kong said,

"You normally add cinnamon to your drinks?"

Iceland shrugged one shoulder, then nodded. Hong Kong gave a nod, like he was interested and waiting for what he had to say, but Iceland didn't do anything else.

People passed by and shot them weird looks; They must look extremely odd, two teenaged boys, one dressed in a suit and the other dressed in nicer dress clothes, both looking away from each other and looking closed off from everybody else.

Hong Kong let out a long, frustrated sigh through his nose and sat back, turning his head to fix Iceland with a searching stare. Iceland arched an eyebrow, arms crossed, but said nothing.

Hong Kong let a light smirk cross his lips as he continued to look into Iceland's eyes with a searching stare. Iceland raised both eyebrows and fixed him with a look, like, 'What?'

It was a staring contest that neither wanted to engage in yet neither wanted to blink. Hong Kong turned his head a little so he was looking Iceland full in the face, his thick eyebrows raised.

Iceland turned his head so he was looking at Hong Kong from a side view, his forehead creasing. The smirk on Hong Kong's face grew a little more, however it was the only thing expressing emotion besides his eyes, which were full of interest.

After a moment, Iceland turned on his full ability and looked Hong Kong right into the eyes, narrowing his eyes. Hong Kong finally turned away, blinking. Iceland smirked in victory but the smirked quickly slipped off his face. He didn't need this childishness...

He was about to tell Hong Kong that thank you, for buying him a drink and thank you, for the offer for the ride, but he didn't really want to, when Hong Kong said in an amused voice,

"You're, like, really quiet."

Iceland raised a brow and said,

"What gave you the hint?"

Hong Kong gave a small chuckle and moved his hand onto the table, tapping it with his fingers in rhythm with the blender whirring behind the counters. After a moment he said,

"You come from, like, a big family, Ice. You ever, like, feel isolated?"

"Firstly, don't call me Ice," Iceland snapped, "Secondly, I'm not isolated, thank you very much, now please mind your own damn business."

"Hong Kong!" The woman called from the counter. Hong Kong glanced at him and allowed a small smile before he stood up, getting their drinks.

Iceland glared at the Asian's back. Any matter said upon his isolation from the rest of Europe had always been a touchy subject for him, however he felt a little bit bad for snapping at the teen Asian. He didn't know that the feeling of being isolated was a touchy subject for him...

Hong Kong returned with the drinks and a small brown bag in hand, smiling as he asked,

"Like, do you want to eat in the car, or, like, in here?"

"What's with you saying 'like' all the time?" Iceland frowned, gazing up at the nation. Hong Kong gazed at him, as if pondering how to answer his question.

"I guess it's, like, a habit." He shrugged after a while, then held up the drinks. "Car or in here?"

"In here, I guess," Iceland sighed, straightening up in his seat. Hong Kong set the drinks down and slid into a seat, taking a sip of his drink and observing Iceland over the top of his cup.

Iceland found the interest uncomfortable and strange; Hong Kong was watching him like he was the most interesting thing since he's ever seen, and it was making him feel strange.

"Will...Will you please stop staring at me like that?" Iceland asked after a few minutes of drinking in silence. Hong Kong blinked and smiled.

"I just, like, can't stop thinking about how, like, shy you look right now," He said. Iceland felt a blush rise to his cheeks and he shot the Asian a glare.

"Shut up," he growled, shifting in his seat. Hong Kong smirked and opened up his brown paper bag, taking out a brownie and shoving it inside his mouth, chewing it and swallowing. Iceland thought he was going to offer the second one to him but instead he took a bite out of that one and began chewing.

After some silence, still earning strange looks from others, Iceland sighed,

"Listen, Hong Kong, I appreciate you buying me and drink and offering to drive me home and all, but I'm good, I get home myself."

Iceland expected him to protest but Hong Kong just gave a chuckle and said,

"Yeah, like, whatever."

Iceland stood up, saying,

"Thank you"

once again before turning away. He was outside when he heard,

"ICELAND!"

and the door to Starbucks flung open and Hong Kong rushed out, holding a slip of paper in his hand. He stuffed inside Iceland's hand, saying,

"If you ever need me, like, call me, okay?"

"Why would I need you?" Iceland frowned at the Asian teen. Hong Kong shrugged in a sort of uncaring way and said,

"Like, if you're ever bored or something."

Iceland stared at him for a few seconds, and Hong Kong turned away, walking back towards the Starbucks, however before he went inside, he smirked at Iceland and said,

"Sjáumst seinna ."

and went inside.

Iceland stared at him in shock.

The weirdest thing that had happened to him today, was not getting drinks with a total stranger. was not given the number of a total stranger, was not observed like some sort of fascinating stranger, but he was just told "see you later", in HIS language, when he was pretty sure that this stranger was Chinese.

Shaking his head, Iceland called himself crazy, thinking he was hearing things, but right now he had bigger things to worry about.

Like how he was going to get home.


	3. Chapter 3

"That," Iceland said, "Is the stupidest, scariest, most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, including all the stuff about unicorns and fairies that you come up with."

"Sadly, it's true," Norway sighed, ignoring that last bit with the unicorns and fairies, "I don't like it, but we all kind of have no choice. Finland and Denmark are all for it, and Sweden is going because Finland, so..."

Iceland gave a groan and rubbed his face with his hands, slumping against the couch. He had ended up hitch-hiking all the way home and now, three days later, after a received phone call from that American idiot, his big brother had delivered the news that they were all to attend high school.

"Why can't we just say no and pretend nothing ever happened? High school is hell, no way I'm going through that, I have all the knowledge I will ever need, thanks," Iceland sighed.

"If I could say no, trust me, I would, but most of our bosses' are all for the idea of us 'interacting with each other better'," Norway gave a slight scoff, "It's them who should be 'interacting with each other better.'"

Iceland rolled his eyes and silently agreed with his older brother; It was the bosses that needed to interact with each other better, not the countries.

"The worst part is, we all have to attend a school in America, far away from our homes," Norway scowled, "With HUMANS. Not by ourselves, but with humans, too."

"This is just fan-fucking-tastic," Iceland groaned, then gave another groan of pain as Norway smacked him upside the head, looking disapproving as he said,

"Watch your language."

"Sorry," He apologized, not very sorry at all as he rubbed his head, glaring down at the navy blue rug underneath the couch. After a few seconds Norway sat down next to him and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels, pretending to actually be interesting in what was on but Iceland knew that he was thinking about this whole high school idea.

He didn't really want to think about it. He was perfectly content with the way he was now, but in just one day they will be packing their things and flying down to America to go to a high school, where they will live with the rest of the nations in an apartment complex in Texas, the second biggest state (besides Alaska, but that was too cold for some).

The bosses had sorted it all through and had lied to the head of the school district saying that all of these student-transfers from different countries were part of an experiment that would last a year and maybe more if it went well.

Iceland seriously hoped it wouldn't go well, the 'experiment' would be an utter failure and they could all go home and pretend nothing ever happened. Who knows what would happen at the human high school? They would be excluded, freaks, from different countries...Except America, he should fit right in...

After a few moments, when it became clear that the two brothers weren't really watching the TV, Norway turned it off and sighed, stretching. Iceland hugged his knees to his chest, staring at the blank screen.

Now that he had gotten over his annoyance, he felt fear now. What if he was bullied for his accent? For being from a different nation? Excluded because he was different, he was weird? What if felt even more socially awkward around all these teenagers? It was certainly going to be hell for him, not even counting school lunches and homework.

After a few moments of contemplating all of these fearsome thoughts, Iceland did something he hadn't done in a very long time and leaned close to Norway, resting his head on his shoulder, brow furrowed.

Norway sensed something was wrong and wrapped his arm around his little brother, bringing his hand up to stroke Iceland's hair softly. Iceland flinched slightly; Norway, like he himself, may feel warm but their skin was hardly ever warm due to their country's cold climates- Norway's hand was ice-cold as he whispered,

"You'll be fine, Ice...Just don't think about it, okay?"

Iceland nodded, feeling sleepy as they sat there in silence. After a few moments, he felt himself nodding off and when he snapped back awake he found himself tucked in bed just as Norway was closing the door.

Iceland blinked, staring at the door for a second before turning onto his back and staring at the ceiling, trying to get warm underneath the covers and snuggling deeper into them.

He thought about this stupid idea. He was going to miss this house, and drinking Brennivín and looking at all of the scenery and the people. He wondered if he would even be able to take , which he hoped he was, because...

Well, no, he didn't think he would be able to take , because a.) was a TALKING puffin and the whole point was to fit in and act like normal humans and b.) it was .

Iceland cursed this whole high-school idea to the hell it crawled out of and turned onto his side. Well, if they were going to America for a whole year, he may as well sleep for the last time in a long time in his home.

~Like, Totally Crazy~

Iceland added a few final touches to his suitcase besides the casual clothes (he wouldn't need many, as the school provided a uniform) by adding his laptop, a few books written in a mixture of Icelandic, English, and Norwegian, some movies from his homeland, and he tucked his phone into his pocket, after taking pictures of a lot of things to remember so he could view them whenever he felt homesick.

Iceland lugged his suitcase downstairs to where his brother was waiting and smiled at him, however the smile was painful and forced; His brother didn't even bother trying to smile as he sipped his coffee, bags underneath his eyes. He clearly hadn't slept.

Iceland decided not to comment on this as he too poured himself some coffee, though not nearly as much as his big brother had. Adding a hella ton of sugar, cinnamon, and milk, Iceland sipped his coffee quietly, the coffee reminding him forcefully of Starbucks with Hong Kong.

When the two finished their coffee and checked to make sure they had everything packed, they went out and loaded their bags into the car, Norway taking a long time finding something inside and Iceland getting impatient for his brother.

When, after ten minutes he did not come out, Iceland honked the horn and waited for his big brother. After a few moments Iceland sighed and stepped out of the car, walking inside the house to see Norway standing in the middle of the living room, staring at everything, a bag in his hands.

"Norway, come on, our flight leave in two hours and we need to he there," Iceland said, touching his older brother's shoulder lightly.

Norway nodded, turning around and the two brothers walked out of the house, getting inside the car where Norway began to drive.

Iceland gave a low sigh as he gazed out the window.

This year was going to be a very long one.

~Author's note: Brennivín is an Icelandic alcoholic beverage~


	4. Chapter 4

One long plane trip later, and an uneventful car ride to the apartments, Iceland and Norway were at their apartment that they would be sharing together, which was tiny and had only one bedroom.

"I guess you and I will have to share a bedroom," Norway sighed as they entered with their suitcases and bags. Their bosses had provided the necessary furniture: A small TV, a couch, two twin beds, a dresser, and a table, however the house still looked strangely lonely and bland.

"Well...It's our home now, I guess," Norway said, forcing a painful smile onto his face that quickly slipped away. Iceland shot his older brother a glare and asked,

"Since when have you been the optimistic one, Norway? I thought it that was Denmark's job."

"I've never been the optimistic one, nor will I ever be," Norway scowled, then he took a breath and wiped his face clear of emotion. "Let's unpack."

Iceland nodded silently and the two brothers walked into the bedroom, setting their suitcases down on one bed and began pulling out their neatly folded clothes, storing them away in the dresser.

After a few hours of unpacking and placing everything everywhere, they heard a pounding at the door and Norway went to go answer it. There was a pause, a few muffled voices, then a loud, clear voice saying,

"Welcome to my places dudes! This is my glasses! I mean Texas! I hope you enjoy it, bros!"

"America, what are you doing here?" Norway's voice sighed. Iceland set down his laptop on the small desk in the corner and walked out into the living room, where he saw America standing at the doorway.

"Oh, I'm here because we're neighbors now," America grinned, standing aside so the two brothers could see the door that was exactly five feet from their own.

"Oh," Norway said in a slightly pissed way, like he wasn't exactly happy with this," And who are you with?"

"France, Iggy, Canada and I are sharing, and upstairs Greece, Turkey, and Egypt are there, however I can kinda hear Greece and Turkey killing each other, no biggie," America said, smiling. Iceland nodded when he heard Turkey's name; he was on friendly terms with the masked nation.

"And who else is upstairs?" Norway asked, referring to the last available apartment in their building.

"Don't know yet, but I do know that Denmark, Prussia, and Germany are bunking together in the apartment building two doors down, and so is Hong Kong, China, South Korea, and Japan. I think Liechtenstein, Ukraine, Hungary, Taiwan, and Belarus are all sharing...Lithuania, Poland, Estonia, and Latvia are too. And Sealand, Wy, and Seborga too."

"I would think that maybe upstairs would be The Netherlands and Belgium, or Russia and somebody else," Iceland put in, "You know where Sve and Finland are?"

"All the way across the apartments, they're sharing together, same building as Spain and Belgium and The Netherlands, and North and South Italy are sharing," America thought, counting it off on his fingers, "I think that's just about everybody I know of."

"I guess we'll-Oh," Iceland had begun to say 'I guess we'll wait to see who's moving upstairs' but at that moment Austria and Switzerland arrived in a moving van.

"You two are bunking together?" America shouted. Austria nodded and America grinned, flashing a thumbs-up and completely ignoring the awkward atmosphere that was going on between Switzerland and Austria.

America rubbed the back of his head and smiled at the two brothers.

"If I were you guys, I would start, you know, preparing yourself for school on Monday, that's like, two days away," America grinned. "And it's a uniform school, but every now and then they let you wear normal attire..."

The two brothers nodded as America turned around, entering his own apartment building. Norway closed the door and the were silent for a moment.

"I can't believe we're all really going through with this," Iceland said after a moment. Norway nodded in agreement and there was another moment of silence before Norway muttered,

"I'll be back"

and left, Iceland not even bothering to ask where he was going and Norway not even bothering to tell. Iceland turned around and walked into the kitchen, pulling out a frozen pizza, the lone food item they had been provided for tonight, and shoved it in the oven.

He sat down, frowning, at the table and rubbed his face with his hands, trying not to think about the upcoming hell. It would have been better if they could have done this in the middle of the year and not in the middle of freaking November...

There was a knock on the door and Iceland stood up, frowning, and opened the door, not even bothering to check who it was. It's not like it wasn't anybody he knew already, but then again, the apartment complex had some humans in it too.

He was surprised to see Romano and Veneziano standing there, Veneziano holding a plate of pasta and smiling widely,

"Hello! We were a-just bring a-pasta to everybody!"

"It was a-his idea," Romano sighed, jabbing his thumb in Italy's direction, however he somewhat lacked the usual fire to his words. Iceland saw that Romano, too, had slight bags under his eyes and seemed to be worrying, unlike his younger brother.

Iceland wondered if he had contemplated the same things he had and was thinking this matter more thoroughly, unlike his brother who stood there like nothing was wrong.

"Oh," Iceland said, his anti-socialness kicking in as he took the plate of pasta from the smiling Italian, "Um, thank you very much...?"

"You're a-very welcome!" Italy smiled, then turned to Romano s the two began walking away, Italy saying,

"I think the a-girls are next, yes?"

Italy closed the door and looked down at the plate of pasta. It was rather large, meant for maybe four people but he knew it would serve well with the pizza. Unlike the pizza, however, this seemed to be made from scratch and smelled like pure heaven.

Iceland set the pasta on the table and heard the timer go off on the oven, so he withdrew the pizza from the oven and set it on the cooling rack to cool off just as Norway walked in with a few grocery bags in his hands.

"What did you get?"

"Oh, the necessities," Norway said in his monotone voice, "Milk, eggs, butter, cereal, soup, waffles, a few frozen items..."

Iceland frowned at his older brother, knowing that he hated buying frozen items and preferred to buy fresh products instead, however he chose not to say anything and said,

"The Italy's brought us some pasta."

"Oh. That was nice of them," Norway sighed, frowning down at the pizza, however his gaze brightened slightly as he eyed the pasta, which sat there looking like it had been made by a professional chef himself.

The two brothers ate their dinner quietly, neither saying much, and when they finished eating they did the dishes together, again in total silence, and they went to bed at the same time, only saying

"Good night"

to each other.

It had been a long day.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, Norway..."Iceland asked quietly the next morning as he surfed the internet. "Doesn't this whole school thing seem a little strange to you? Why are we doing this now, and not a long time ago?"

Norway stared at his little brother, coffee in his hand. He frowned, then said,

"I...I've thought about that, but I couldn't think of any reason for it."

Iceland glanced up at his brother, and the two exchanged looks before shrugging it off.

~Like, Totally Crazy~

The morning they went to hell *cough* I mean school *cough* was a hectic one.

Never before have the countries lived in such close proximity before, and rather than feeling like neighbors it felt more like one big house as America banged loudly on their apartment door yelling for them to get up, which they realized it was twenty minutes until the first bell and rushed everywhere to find their school uniform and look decent.

"Iceland, comb your hair!" Norway snapped as he stuffed his bag full of papers and books.

"You're one to talk, you haven't even put in your barrette!" Iceland shot back from inside the bathroom as he attempted to drag the comb through his silvery hair. Norway froze and crossed his eyes glancing upwards.

After the two brothers took care of their hair situations they burst outside to see America pulling up in a large van, where they could see England and France sitting together in the front seat (the resolution for the argument on who would get the front seat) Canada in the back sitting next to Romano and Italy.

"Dudes, we got room for three more!" America said. Norway and Iceland entered the car- They had agreed to carpool with America to the high school the previous day. At that moment Prussia raced past them in his own car with Denmark, Spain, Austria, and Switzerland inside, the last two looking uncomfortable but the first said three looking like they were having the time of their lives.

Germany had left ten minutes before with Japan, Greece, Turkey, and Egypt, and the girls all took a car for themselves- America was just waiting for Russia, whom he reluctantly agreed to drive to the school.

Once Russia had entered the car (Flashing Iceland a smile that Iceland did not return because he was still suspicious of the taller nation), America stomped on the gas pedal and they wheeled out of the apartment complex to the school they would be attending.

Boy's uniform consisted of a white button-up shirt and a tan fuzzy vest worn over it and a pair of plaid blue pants and white sneakers, a rather laid-back look for all of them, and the girls was more or less the same, but with Mary Janes and skirts instead.

The parking lot at the school was mostly empty and it looked rather small and brand-new, like it had recently been built, though kind of small for your average high-school, with not that many windows.

Once they arrived in front of the school, they practically spilled out of the car and rushed inside where mostly everybody else was waiting, however a few were missing. They were supposed to wait in the office for a school secretary to take them somewhere...

Once all of the "transfer" students arrived, a secretary escorted all of the nations to a room where she told them to sit and wait.

"I can'r believe we are actually all going through with this," England sighed, rubbing his temples. Iceland agreed- He had hoped it would be some bad dream he would wake up from but sadly, that wasn't the case.

As he sat there, waiting, he suddenly felt a prickling feeling on the back of his neck and turned around to see Hong Kong leaning against the wall, shirt untucked and the buttons on his shirt off by one, sleeves rolled up, a look of casuality that Iceland couldn't help but admire and wish he had.

Hong Kong was staring at him, golden eyes still blank of emotion however there was a small smile on his face. Iceland shot him a glare and turned around, then did something he would regret later- he clutched Norway's hand and made it kind of obvious, shooting Hong Kong a look. Hong Kong's eyes flew up in surprise and his eyes widened, however his face remained otherwise blank.

Iceland didn't want this Hong Kong kid to think of any ideas and take an interest in, so why not show him that he was taken? however he wished he would have made a smarter decision and grabbed Romano's hand, who was right next to him and it would be less awkward between him and his brother, who was now looking at him like the apocalypse had come.

Well, the good thing was, he made it look like he was in a relationship and that seemed to have thrown Hong Kong off. The bad things were, a.) it was his brother, EW, and b.) that would eventually backfire on him one day...Good thing Hong Kong didn't know that Norway was his brother.

Iceland cast a glance over the inhabitants of the room. Some looked ecstatic, like America, Italy, Russia, and Prussia, however some looked worried like Austria, Romano, England, and Norway, and some were just neutral, unreadable, like Switzerland, Japan, Germany, and and China. Iceland himself was worried like his older brother, like Romano, like England, like all the others that were worried.

They were all "transfer" students, all had seen things that there was a good 99.9% chance that nobody else in this school will witness, ever. That was a real fucking smart move, placing them all in a place like this, living in the same area. For example, Turkey and Greece. Or Russia and America. Or France and England. They will surely wreck havoc on this school with their bickering.

Iceland sighed and clutched Norway;s hand tighter, but this time it was because he was worried, because he was scared, of what awaited him later on in the year.

Norway seemed to understand this and wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders, stroking his hair softly. To others who didn't know they were brothers this scene would look very weird, but when Iceland was younger and whenever Sweden and Denmark had one of their raging fights, Iceland would get upset and cry, and Norway would hold him close, whispering words of comfort and stroking his hair softly.

Over the years, whenever Iceland needed to be calmed down all Norway or the others would have to do was stroke his hair- It had calmed him down as a child and made him feel protected, but he would never admit this out loud to them anymore.

Norway continued to run his fingers lightly through Iceland's hair, calming his nerves slightly and he let go of his older brother's hand. After a second or so of silence from everybody, the secretary walked back in and asked them to follow her to the theater.

The nations glanced at each other and followed the secretary, who smiled at them, holding several thick files to her chest. The hallways were empty and the windows tinted so nobody could see in or out, which was good against distractions, however Iceland noticed the lack of lockers.

"Excuse me ma'me, but where are the lockers?" Estonia asked, voicing his unasked question. The secretary lowered her glasses and looked Estonia up and down, then smiled.

"You're the Estonian, aren't you?"

"Um...Yes?" Estonia frowned, as the many nations listened to their conversation, shoes clicking against the tile floors. The secretary smiled and pulled out a folder from the middle and opened it, observing it. After a moment, she said,

"Well, Eduard, we don't really have a terrible amount of students, so we figured that the locker-space was unnecessary."

'Well you just added roughly thirty people here, so how's that working out?' Iceland thought to himself, frowning. The secretary led them to a door where they could hear voices beyond; It sounded like the school had been gathered there for some sort of assembly...

She ushered them inside and smiled at them before closing the door, an unwise move in Iceland's opinion, to just leave them here. After a few minutes of awkward silence, England asked,

"So who's idea was this anyways?"

A chorus of "Not mine" filled the room and he sighed, eyebrows furrowing.

"My boss isn't really with this idea...Anybody else's?"

"Mine didn't want me to go," Belarus said, and Ukraine, Canada, Liechtenstein, and a few others nodded in agreement.

"Did anybody actually want to be here?" England frowned. Mostly everybody shook their heads. America was staring at the door with slight confusion on his face and had been spaced out this whole conversation. England gave him a strange look and walked towards America, whispering something as the room erupted into small talk.

Iceland sighed and turned around to see Hong Kong facing him, smiling. Iceland stared at him for a moment, at lack for anything to say to the Asian, whom sensed this and said,

"I, like, noticed you noticing me noticing you but you, like, decided not to take notice of the fact that I noticed you noticing me so here I am noticing you finally notice me."

"I...Uh...What?" Iceland asked, confused. Hong Kong smiled wider and said,

"I noticed you. And you, like, didn't even, like, say hi or anything. I thought we were, like, friends."

"Well, like, you, like, thought wrong, like, totally dd," Iceland said in an imitation of Hong Kong's valley girl accent. Hong Kong smiled wider and said,

"Seriously though, this high school? I don't, like, fancy it or anything. I don't like it."

"You and everybody else it seems," Iceland frowned. There was silence before Hong Kong opened his mouth, as if to say something, but the door burst open and several people walked in, talking.

"Hello, nations," the leader-looking one said, smiling at them. Everybody stared at the group of ten people, noticing they all had some sort of weird white masks covering their noses and mouths.

"I bet you are all wondering why you are here today," The lead woman said, her chin-length blonde hair slightly wavy and her blue eyes looking at all of them as they closed the door behind her, locking it. A few of the nations cast confused glances, some even looking scared.

"I just want you all to know that over the next few months you will all be experiencing something you have never experienced before," The woman continued as the people in white lab coats behind her took out some sort of taser-looking thing.

"We have spoken to few of your bosses who have agreed with us and managed to convince the other bosses to let you attend this 'school'," The woman said, her eyes glancing at all of them. Spain, standing near the back, began breathing heavily and fell over, probably fainting from fear. Switzerland himself was breathing rather heavily and Canada looked dizzy.

"You will experience pain, loss, and the experiments of our government while you are here, and attempting to escape shall be unwise," the woman crossed her arms. She, unlike the others, wore a dark blue suit that was a skirt and jacket attached, wearing a white blouse beneath as she observed them all with cold eyes. Iceland felt his hand being gripped by the familiar iciness of his brother's hand and felt him squeeze it.

In the back, Switzerland fell to his knees, looking dizzy and a few other nations leaned against others or the wall, eyes wide and breathing rather heavily. The woman observed them, as if their reactions were the most interesting thing she has ever seen.

"So I would suggest that you get used to this life while you can." She appeared to be smiling, though Iceland couldn't tell because of the surgeon-like mask she wore. He suddenly felt a dizzy, swooping sensation wash over his body and fell over backwards, his brother catching him. He found it difficult to breathe and he felt dizzy, and noticed his brother was shaking slightly and breathing a bit abnormally also.

"Now, while I was talking we have been filling this room with colorless knock-out gas, so when you all wake up you will be in a different place," the woman said over the loud noises of a few of them panicking and giving gasps of horror.

The last thing Iceland saw before blackness obscured his vision was Norway dropping him and his big brother falling to the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

If you would have told Iceland six months ago that he would spend the next few months locked inside his own head, his own hell, he would have recommended you to an insane asylum after taking several cautious steps back.

If you would have told him that falling in love was going to be the hardest, most painful thing to do he would have told you that A.) that was never going to happen because let's face it, who would line a loner like him? And B.) he would still recommend you to that insane asylum.

If you would have told him that one boy and one "school" and one woman and his own brother will turn his whole world upside down and shake him to his roots he would have raced away as fast as he could while calling that insane asylum on his phone.

However, if you would have told him that now, he would have believed you. He would have nodded, fear in his eyes, but be too scared to say anything else in case he jinxed himself and made it actually happen.

~Like, Totally Crazy~

Iceland woke up completely naked, lying against a cold metal surface. It took him a second to realize that he was naked and surrounded by other naked people. Squeaking like the prude he was, he sat up and brought his knees to his chest, covering up as much as possible, horrified at being naked.

Just the thought of stripping in front of one person for say, sex, made him shiver in fear but actually be naked in front of what was about...Five, six people? He was having a slight panic attack. He had never liked being naked and he never will. Ever.

He was not the only one awake; He saw his brother blinking groggily and sit up, not even bothered by the fact that he was naked and surrounded by other people. Or maybe he just didn't notice, which Iceland could kind of believe because his brother looked deep in thought and distracted.

Norway turned and saw him, huddled against the wall and covering every inch of him available. Iceland thought something looked strange about his face and realized that even Norway's Nordic Cross barrette was gone, making his blonde hair frame his face, making him look slightly girlish and younger, his face looking fuller, the hair covering his slightly-hollowed cheeks that was the result of nights of starvation during his days as a viking.

"Hey Ice," Norway said quietly, as if he was not standing there completely naked with other naked people on the cold metal floor. Iceland couldn't tell who they were because he refused to look at them, refused to look at a naked person. With his brother it was slightly different; he'd seen his brother naked plenty of times before, whether it was from accidentally walking in on him while he was changing or using the bathroom or taking baths with him when they were both younger.

Or it could have been that time they got drunk at that beach party and went to go skinny-dipping in the ocean, which Iceland was still traumatized by and shall not speak of it...

"Who else is in here with us?" Iceland asked after taking a few breaths, forcing his head to look up at the ceiling as to avoid looking at any of the people before him. Norway cast a quick glance around and said,

"Sweden, America, Canada, Prussia, and Romano."

"No girls, I feel a lot better," Iceland breathed out, however he still felt unable to look down at the horror before him. Norway paused, glancing around, then said,

"Why are we naked?"

"I would really not like to think about that right now," Iceland said in a slightly breathless voice, trying to find something to distract himself, so instead he focused on his brother's face. His brother never, ever took that clip off, not even to go to sleep or to take a shower. He had never seen him without it...

And he had also never realized how girly of a figure his brother had. The long eyelashes, the way his hair framed his face, his smaller nose and cheeks, you would think he was a girl, yet their was something masculine about his face too, however Iceland couldn't place his finger on it. He allowed his eyes to travel downwards, yet nothing below the waist.

This had always been a touchy subject for his brother, and Iceland felt bad for him, but he had to say; His brother had this flat stomach girls would kill for and slight curves. Which was embarrassing, and this slight, sloping graceful build to his body that most people underestimated, because believe it or not, Norway had the strength to be a professional boxer.

Then a thought hit Iceland; He himself had never really thought about it, but was his own figure girly like his older brother's? He knew he too had long eyelashes and a round-ish face, and he too was thin, but he didn't exactly have the same slenderness or build as his brother...Shoving the thought away, Iceland told his brother,

"You look like a girl, to be honest, without you're hair clip."

Norway's eyes widened and his hand flew up to where his hair clip usually pinned his hair back and it groped the soft hair there. He appeared not to have noticed it missing. He then gave a scowl at Iceland for calling him girly and put his hands on his hips and looked down at his member.

"Does this thing look girly to you, Ice?"

"I' .Looking." Iceland growled, squeezing his eyes shut.

"That's what I thought," there was an amused hint in Norway's tone. After a moment of silence somebody woke up and exclaimed,

"I-Whoa-Why am I naked?!"

It was clearly America's voice, however Iceland still refused to open his eyes and even cast a glance to America's face. After a few moments, America's voice said,

"Whoa, Norway, For a girly-woman-man-thing, you are BI-"

There was a sound of hand slapping flesh and America's voice going "OW!" There was a stir and a soft voice that Iceland could hardly hear said softly,

"Wh-where are we? Why are we n-naked?"

He didn't recognize the voice and, out of curiousity, he opened his eyes and cast a glance to figure standing up, not letting his eyes go lower than the chest. The figure had wavy blonde hair and a strange curl.

"Who are you?" Iceland asked in a confused voice. The guy lowered his eyes to the ground and sighed softly,

"I'm Canada."

Iceland still didn't really know who he was, but America's voice suddenly said,

"Whoa! Why can't I see anything?!"

"You don't have your glasses, you idiot," Norway sighed, "I swear sometimes you remind me exactly of Denmark. You and Prussia both."

"Is that a gooooood thing or a baaaaaad thing?"

"Shut up or I'll let my fist tell you," Norway threatened.

A voice suddenly came from behind the talking nations,

"So glad you're awake."


	7. Chapter 7

It was not the blonde-haired lady from before who had spoken, but a man with strawberry-colored hair and freckles. Iceland instinctively covered himself up even more, glaring and shivering slightly against the cold metal.

"Why the hell are we here? Who are you? What are you going to do to us?" America asked as soon as he saw the shorter man. The man blinked, then smiled.

"I can't tell you why I'm here. And I can't tell you my name, or what we are going to do with you," the man smiled once again. "All I can say is that it will be very painful."

America shot a glare at him, fist clenching. He too, like the others, seemed unaffected by the fact that he was butt-naked, which made Iceland feel weird. Was he the only one who had a problem with it? Or were they just better at hiding it than him?

"Why are we naked?" he asked the man that was slightly taller than him. The man shrugged and said,

"Easier to do tests on you..."

"TESTS?!" Canada exclaimed. The man smiled and said,

"Whoopsies, I said too much~"

"Listen here," America growled, "We are-"

"Don't care, so don't say," The man said, shrugging his shoulders and smiling even wider than before. Iceland stared at him and noticed his light blue eyes had pink swirls in them...

What?...

"Now, if you please, follow me and you may or may not get your answers," The man said. Iceland glanced at his brother to see him exchanging a glance with America, his eyes narrowed. After a moment of hesitance, the two turned around and tried to wake up the others.

The man watched them with a look of interest on his face, and Iceland continued to sit huddled against the wall, refusing to look anywhere but the ceiling and occasionally cast the man a look. Soon Sweden was up, silent as ever, however there was a light blush to his face as he realized he too was naked. He didn't even have his glasses on.

Romano and Prussia weren't nearly as quiet. Romano was cussing at the man and Prussia had to be restrained from attacking the man. Iceland felt like the only one who really was bothered by this naked situation was him. I mean, sure, they kind of had bigger problems at hand, but the older countries in front of him looked like they didn't really care. Except maybe Sweden.

"Up, up, up, let's get going," The man smiled, and turned around. The others cast dark looks and they followed him out, all except Iceland. Iceland shook his head when Norway glanced at him. Norway sighed and walked over, and scooped Iceland up into his arms.

"Bror, you need to come with us. Please. I can't leave you behind, alone with these people. Just please cover yourself up and you'll be fine."

"No," Iceland aid shakily. "Y-you know I don't l-like-"

But Norway was already carrying him out the door. Iceland brought his knees together to cover up between his legs and shifted himself so his bottom could be seen a little less.

"Bastard," Romano scowled at the slightly shorter man, "Where are our clothes? We need to be wearing something, and not walking around here like we have no pride or dignity or anything..."

The man smiled at Romano and said,

"You can put on some clothes when the boss says you can put on some clothes."

Romano scowled again and Iceland clutched onto Norway, his prudishness making him feel worse and worse, to where he felt like vomiting. He hated being naked.

He hated it he hated it he hated it and he was going to be sick he was going to throw up-

"Calm down," Norway whispered, adjusting his arm so he could softly stroke Iceland's hair without dropping him. Iceland was still shaking and his brother must have felt his quickening heart rate. The fear of being nude and or around other nude people was becoming more drastic each step they took. The others seemed to notice him gripping onto Norway's arm tightly and looked slightly sympathetic.

Once they arrived to a large room, they were asked to sit at the small black chairs. Nobody did except for Iceland, who brought his knees to his chest and tried to focus on anything but the fact that he was naked.

Naked with other people.

After a minute four other nude people entered- Denmark, England, France, and Poland. Unlike the others, Poland and England actually looked really awkward at them being naked. Denmark was too busy staring at Norway with his jaw dropped and France was stretching his arms like he was naked all the time.

Which he probably was.

Iceland shivered at the thought of being nude all the time. He would rather kill himself than do that. He didn't really have a problem with being naked just long enough to take a shower and/or get dressed, but any longer than that and he might as well have a heart attack.

They, too, were asked to sit in the chairs, however the only person who did was France, who sat there lounging around almost like he was perfectly used to being surrounded by naked people and wasn't nervous at all.

Almost.

Despite his calm exterior, his hands were clutching the arms of the chair and were white against the black chair arms. They all sat there waiting in more silence until a woman walked out of the door of the far room.

She was the only thing besides their skin color, eye color, etc., that wasn't white. She had on a dark blue jacket, navy blue tights and a black skirt with a white shirt. She had her blonde hair pinned back with a hair clip, and had a familiar bow on top of her head. And also a ribbon on the side of her head. And a head band. And several other things that didn't belong to her.

She smiled at them, expecting some sort of reactions, and reactions she got. America lunged at her, spotting the bow, and Iceland remembered he was somewhat close to Belarus. Prussia had to be refrained- He saw Hungary's flowers. or it might have been Liechtenstein's hair ribbon- He was rather overprotective of her and the other younger nations, like Iceland

"My, my, we all have rather short tempers, don't we?" The woman said, smiling at them. Iceland then noticed that she wore multiple hair clips, one was Ukraine's and another one looked familiar but he couldn't place his finger on it, and the other was Norway's.

His brother's.

Norway noticed this too and his fists clenched, however he chose to say nothing. There was silence for a few more moments before the woman said,

"Give them something to wear, Oliver. Looking at them like this disgusts me."

"Right away," Oliver smiled, and went into a back room. The woman looked back at the eleven people gathered before her.

"You may be wondering why you are here."

"Like hell we are," England growled. "Tell us, woman."

"I'm sorry, but I can't," She mused as Oliver came back with several lab coats. The first one to jump up and grab it was Iceland- He threw it over himself and buttoned up all the buttons, covering himself with a quick pace, panting slightly.

He was no longer completely nude, however he would have preferred if he had some underwear.

But sadly the world isn't a wish-granting factory.

"Anyways-" The woman began, but four more people entered- A taller woman dressed in a white dress and lab coat, and three other naked people- Hong Kong and Finland, and Belarus.

Finland blushed as soon as he saw the others, covering himself up quickly with the offered lab coat. Hong Kong accepted his and stared at Iceland silently, his eyebrows drawn together as if asking him what was going on. Belarus, unlike the rest of them, had on a bra and panties, but she looked strange without her usual hair assortment. She snatched the lab coat from Oliver and glowered at the blonde woman.

"Now that you are all here-" The woman began again, but Poland interrupted,

"No, there's, like, way more people. Where's Lithuania? And what about, like, Russia and stuff? This isn't, like, everybody there was, like, a whole bunch more people!"

"Where is brother Russia?" Belarus growled, scowling at the woman. "He was here with me!"

"Oh, really?" The woman smiled but said nothing. If Iceland had to say, he thought she was splitting them all up for something...For what he didn't know, however...

The woman paced up and down, thinking about something for a minute before saying,

"I'm sure you are all wanting to reunite with your little friends and everything, but sadly, that's not going to happen," The woman smiled. "You are all going to go through a simulator. The twelve of you, and a few more teams."

"Teams?" France asked, but his question was ignored.

"We will put you twelve in a simulator until there are eight alive. Then we will put you in a larger simulator with another team until there are four alive. Then we will place you with the final four of the other two teams," The woman smiled. "And only three can survive."

"I don't know what your talking about," America growled, "But I don't like it. Do you know who we are, lady? We're fucking countries. You can't just do this to us-"

"Watch me," The woman smiled. "This can take up to a year, maybe two. It all depends on you, really. Of course, I'll be there to have a few say so's myself..."

She laughed and Oliver and the other lady joined with her, but the nations were staring at her. Iceland wondered why nobody was attacking her, to make a bid for freedom, when he realized he was tired.

He just didn't have enough energy.

France beside him seemed to be relaxing a little too much and America was leaning against the wall. The knock-out gas had tired them out greatly, and they were helpless against her.

"You...You won't get away with this," Denmark growled. "They won't let this happen."

"Who, your bosses?" The woman smiled. "Who do you think set you up for this whole gig?"

"My boss would never do that," Belarus snapped. The woman smiled again and said,

"True, a lot of yours didn't...But who says they know what exactly is going on? As far as most are concerned, you're just going to a regular high school."

The others sat in silence for a few moments. Then the woman smiled again, but Iceland noticed that not once has this smile reached her eyes.

She ordered Oliver to do something in a completely different language, one he didn't understand, but Oliver did went to the back room with the other woman.

"What do you mean by simulator?" Canada asked while they were gone.

"This is all group together, and you are transported into a computer program where everything you feel, eat, and do is real. When you get killed, your body is sent back here. Say you get a knife through your skull, then you come back here with a knife through your skull." The woman smiled. "Pleasant, right?"

"Very," Romano said sarcastically. A moment passed and Oliver rushed back with chains in his hands and forced them all onto their hands. Once that was done they forced the nations out into the hallway and down the hall, to a door to another large room where a small gray flat was.

They were forced onto the flat, and the woman smiled and turned to another man that was standing right by the door. The man nodded and pulled out a few syringes, and handed them to the woman. She smiled at all of them and walked up to America, who was first.

"So, like, Iceland," Iceland heard a voice say next to him, "This is some, like, fucked up shit, right?"

"Please don't talk to me now, I'm about to have a panic attack," Iceland breathed.

"Iceland," Norway said from his other side, "Don't panic little bror...We're going to be okay...Okay?"

"Okay," Iceland huffed as the woman held the syringe up to America's neck. He struggle, trying to get her away from him but she plunged it into his skin and pressed the injection thing, unleashing an orange liquid into his system.

She moved onto England, who didn't have any time to resist as she plunged the syringe into his neck. Norway turned his head to look Iceland in the eye, panting slightly.

"Bror, if we're separated. whatever we're going, you need to find me, and I'm going to try and find you. Okay?"

"STOP!" France shouted, attempting to knee the woman once she got to him. Oliver rushed forward to help but she glared at him. England, next to France, was muttering to America, who's actions were becoming slow and sluggish.

"Listen, Canada, I-"

The woman plunged the syringe into his shoulder and pressed hard, pulling out another and injecting it into his head. France's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped over.

Canada began having a minor panic attack, and Norway returned his attention to Iceland.

"We're going to be okay, we're going to get out alive, somebody will save us..."

"Nor?" Denmark asked from the other side of Norway. Norway scowled slightly and turned back to face him, Denmark muttering things he couldn't hear as Iceland returned his attention to the woman, who was now injecting it into Finland.

"Like, Iceland," Hong Kong said quietly, "We're going to, like, be okay. I'll, like, help you find your brother."

The woman was at Denmark, forcing him to stop struggling and injecting the liquid into him. Norway stepped back slightly so he was able to clutch Iceland's hand into his own one. Norway's usually calm demeanor was slightly down, his breathing heavier.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered as the woman got to him, "It's going to be okay..."

"Don't be telling such lies," The woman said coolly, and plunged the syringe into his chest rather than his neck or shoulder. Norway gasped as the woman took the syringe away and got to Iceland.

Iceland took a deep breath as he thought of how to distract her, to escape, as the woman placed the tip of the needle to his neck and pushed it inside.

Gasping in pain, Iceland felt a warm, tiring sensation go through his body as she pulled away. America, England, and France were all out of it, and Canada and Finland were looking like they were slowly slipping away too.

"If we're, like, being sent to, like, a computer, then why are we, like, getting these things in our necks?" Hong Kong asked the woman as she reached him. She cocked her head and said quietly,

"It's how we keep track of you, of course."

Iceland felt his brother give his hand a squeeze as she plunged the needle into Hong Kong's arm and went onto Poland, right next to him. Hong Kong turned to face Iceland.

"Why are you going to help me?" Iceland asked him, trying not to slip away so fast like the liquid was commanding him to do.

"Because, like, I find you, like, interesting," Hong Kong said quietly, "And I want you, to, like, find your brother."

"You barely know me," Iceland sighed. Hong Kong smiled.

"It may, like, seem like that..."

Iceland shook his head as his body began to quiver. Finland and Canada were asleep already and Denmark had just collapsed onto Norway. Norway was shaking and he looked down at Iceland, his eyelids half-lidded.

"I love you, little bror," he whispered, "Just...Just don't..."

He trailed off as his head fell and he was completely out, eyes closed and breathing slowing down. Iceland too felt himself slowly drifting off, the woman now dealing with a screaming and cursing Romano.

"WHERE IS MY A-FRATELLO?! WHERE IS HE, YOU BITCH?!"

She plunged the syringe into his waist and the same thing she had used on France on him. He was instantly out.

Iceland took a few deep breaths. He was taking a big step into something. Something that...

Something that...

Blackness clouded his vision and everything was silent.


	8. Chapter 8

Everything was fuzzy.

Everything was unclear.

Everything was buzzing.

Everything was black.

Everything was cold.

Everything wasn't making any sense.

Cold.

In a warm place?

Blackness.

In such a bright room?

Buzzing,

when there was only silence?

Unclearness,

when he had understood everything almost perfectly before?

Cold

Cold.

Cold.

Fuzziness.

Blackness.

A buzzing.

It all had to be linked,

right?

If only he could lift his head,

but his head was heavy.

If only he could see,

see past the veil covering his eyes.

If only he could hear something,

besides the buzzing in his ears.

If only he could feel something,

except for the cold.

THe cold was seeping through his clothes.

His jacket.

His boots.

His pants.

His shirt.

That stupid ribbon Norway gave him years ago.

Those gloves Finland gave him for Christmas.

Wait.

Hadn't he be injected in just wearing a lab coat?

Why was he injected?

What lab coat?

What was he talking about?

Iceland opened his eyes, staring at the blue sky above, mind in a complete jumble of nothingness and then suddenly all of the memories, every detail super refined, came flooding into his head.

Iceland turned his head left and right, laying against sand. Pearly white sand, and it was getting into his gloves and pants. He looked back up at the sky as he rubbed a few grains of sand between his fingers.

The sun was bright, beating down n him, and while sweat was dripping down his forehead,

he was cold.

Cold.

Cold...

...Cold?

Why was he cold?

Why was he wearing his normal clothes?

Iceland sat up, his head hurting as he did so, trying to think of possible answers to all of these questions. He looked around at his surroundings, trying to take them in without passing out from the major headache he was suffering.

He took in his surroundings one detail at a time; The pale sand he was laying on, the sun shining down on green palm trees swaying slightly in a tropical breeze that he couldn't feel.

All he felt was cold.

The same cold as back in that room.

In that place.

Iceland frowned.

What?

Was he feeling the...?

Then it all came to him;

His mind was in the place, not his physical body, and his real body was back at that other place, and he was feeling the cold his actual self was feeling.

It was all very confusing; Iceland's head began hurting even more and he buried his face into his gloved hands, rubbing his hands over his face.

Why did this feel real? If this was in his head, how could he feel the sand? His hands rubbing his face? The jacket weighting heavily on his shoulders?

"Ugh...I don't want to think about it," He groaned out loud. A moment of silence, then.

"Think about what?"

Iceland snapped around on the spot, his neck and back twisting faster than they should have to see a blonde-haired, blue-eyed nation, wearing his usual blue cloak, red trousers, and basically everything he wore on a daily basis.

"Bonjour, Iceland," France said, dipping his head in greeting, arms crossed. The French nation looked distant, unlike himself, and his eyes were scanning the palm forest behind them.

"F-France?" Iceland stammered, staring at him. While relieved he wasn't completely alone, he would have preferred somebody else- Norway or Denmark, someone he was more familiar and more comfortable with.

"Oui, it is me," France nodded at the younger nation.

"Have you seen any of the others? How long have you been awake?"

"I have only been awake for the past half hour, waiting for you," France said quietly, "And no, I have seen nobody."

Iceland felt disappointment crush him and he nodded. He would have liked it if France had said he had saw his brother, and France seemed to know what he was thinking, because he said,

"Listen, _Petilande_, I will help you find your brother if you help me find Canada."

Iceland flinched slightly at the nickname, Petilande. He had never really liked it, and he he found out it was a combination of French for 'little one' and 'Iceland', he just hated it more.

After a moment of thinking about it, Iceland nodded and looked up at France, getting to his feet.

"What now?"

"Well, _Petilande,_ we find the others."

* * *

><p>SO<p>

I am evil aren't I?

I feel like you guys shouldn't trust me to write books anymore...

Oui?

Anybody agree?

So...

Petilande is something I came up with.

MWAHAHAHA.

Because I have a headcanon that French, either know he doesn't like learning any other languages, has created a nickname for each of the nations- One in his own language, and then one in their language.

For example, we have 'Petilande', a combination of the French word 'Petite' which means 'Little one' and 'Islande', which is French for Iceland.

Then he makes the name into a more Icelandic one, which is the same words, however different language- Líticeland, which is the same combination of words, however just in Iceland's language.

Sometimes I wonder if those words mean something in a different language? IDK XD


	9. Chapter 9

"Petilande, what do you think they meant by 'until eight are left?'"

"I think it pretty much means 'until four die.'"

"Yes, but..." France trailed off for a second, then sighed, "Does this mean we have to kill each other, or what?"

An uncomfortable sensation crept up Iceland as he thought about it. What if he, and his brother, were in the last four? Only three could survive, and SOMEBODY would end up dying...

What if it was him and his brother up against Denmark and Sweden? That would be hard, because they were both stronger than him and his brother...

"Iceland," France said suddenly, "It was me, you, Canada, Prussia, England, America, Denmark, Sweden, Hong Kong, Poland, Finland, Romano, and your brother, right?"

"Yes," Iceland nodded.

"In order to do this whole deal, then there will need to be twelve on each team,and there are three other teams of twelves...Name all of the people you can think of."

"China, Russia, Germany, Italy, Japan, Sealand, Seborga, Wy, Taiwan, Thailand, South Korea, India, Seychelles, Lithuania, Estonia, Macau, Latvia, Liechtenstein, Austria, Hungary, Ukraine, Belarus, Switzerland, Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, Kenya, Ghana, Zimbabwe, Vietnam, Mexico, Australia, New Zealand, Bulgaria, Greece, Turkey, Romania, Cyprus, Egypt, Cuba, Ladonia, Hutt River, Moldova, Monaco, Tibet, Mongolia, Croatia, TRNC, Molossia-"

"Stop," France said. Iceland nodded, having named just about every person he knew.

"That was about fifty people you named, and if there are three other teams of twelve, then that would be thirty-six, right? Then that means that about twelve of those other people are still out there!" France said, "And they could save us!"

Iceland couldn't bring himself to disagree nor agree with the French nation. He knew he was just saying it to bring hope but right now he just couldn't feel any. He was still trying to recover from the shock of this whole ordeal. After a second of silence, France clapped his hands together and said in a falsely cheery voice,

"Well, Petilande, we need some twigs and leave for some kindling, and also a few coconuts. I find the coconuts, you gather the leaves and twigs."

Raising an eyebrow but choosing to say nothing, Iceland did as he was told, laboring over the nonexistent sun that was there but it wasn't really. It was all too confusing for him to describe.

After he gathered what he felt was enough twigs and leaves to start a decent fire, he walked back over to the light marks in the sand signifying where he had sat down, marking their camp. He arranged the twigs and leaves into a pile, sitting back on his heels to admire his work.

"Good," France's voice praised. Whirling around, he saw nothing, but as he tilted his head upwards he saw the French nation sitting in a palm tree, four coconuts in his arms.

"How did you get up there?!" Iceland shouted.

"I may hate war and all that survival stuff, but that doesn't mean I don't have any experience," France said, and slid down the rough trunk of the tree, dumping the coconuts onto a pile in the sand and turning around to scale another tree.

Iceland gathered all the coconuts in his jacket, so they wouldn't be covered in sand, and set his jacket down next to the fire. He couldn't explain it, but he felt hot and sweaty. Which was weird, considering the fact that he wasn't really there. Neither was the sun. Or the heat.

His head began to hurt thinking about it. It was too complex, too difficult, to comprehend, to take in, to think about. He heard a flopping sound behind him and turned to see France rubbing his backside and holding a single coconut.

"Ow," he moaned, "I have sand where there should not be sand..."

"TMI," Iceland scowled.

"TMI?" France raised an eyebrow,

"Too much information."

"Oh."

There was silence for a few minutes as France used a rather sharp rock to saw open the coconuts. After a while, he ordered Iceland to go find some bamboo.

Not liking being ordered around, especially by FRANCE, of all people, Iceland stomped off, looking everywhere for those stupid bamboo things. Once he finally found some (about 200 feet from their 'camp') he brought them back to France, who had successfully opened two coconuts.

"Oh, _merci_!" France thanked him, taking the bamboo sticks from them. He then began instructing Iceland on how to make bamboo straws.

Feeling like this was the stupidest thing ever, and cursing his luck with ending up with France, Iceland began to twist the bamboo strips into shape, modeling them into something they could drink through.

After he finished making three or four bamboo straws, France handed him a coconut with some coconut milk in it and he stuck his straw inside and began drinking it.

It was until he was drinking it did he realize how thirsty he was. The simulation or the program or whatever the hell they were inside was holding off the effects or feelings of dehydration, an effective way to kill them- They wouldn't realize they were so thirsty until much later.

On that note...

The sun was setting, and it had been hours since he had had something to eat, yet his stomach wasn't even rumbling. Frowning, Iceland turned to France, who had taken off the pink jacket he was wearing and was laying across it, staring at the twigs. They had not yet started the fire, but Iceland didn't know how to, anyways.

After a while of silence, which Iceland finished his drink, he turned to toss the empty shell away, but France said,

"No, keep it."

"For what?" Iceland asked, raising an eyebrow. France shrugged, fiddling with the end of his blonde hair.

"I don't know, Petilande...We could need it."

"Would you stop calling me that?" Iceland scowled. France grinned and said,

"_Désolé, _it's a habit."

Shrugging off his apology, Iceland set down the empty coconut shell and brought his knees to his chest. After more silence, France grabbed two rocks and began whacking them together, trying to earn a spark to start the fire before night settled it.

"We should catch some fish to eat, Pet- Iceland," France advised, "But I'm not sure how, wihtout a fishing rod or net."

"I can do it, but I'll do it once the sun comes up," Iceland murmured, eyeing the dark ocean as the first stars lit up the sky, "Who knows what's in that ocean?"

"Oui," France agreed. More silence.

Then...

"Do you hear that?" France whispered. Iceland perked up, looking at the French nation to see him staring off at something. Iceland followed his gaze to see him staring at the woods.

There was a rustling, then the snapping of a twig.

Then...

"Iceland!" A familiar voice shouted.


	10. Chapter 10

~Okay, so I totally screwed up on counting. You had the Nordic Five, then FACE, so that was nine...And then you have Poland, Belarus, Prussia, and Romano, which equals thirteen...SO PRETEND PRUSSIA WASN'T THERE

OKAY?

OKAY.~

"Iceland!" The familiar voice called once again. Iceland stared in the direction of the voice, heart thumping. Was that who he thought it was?...

The face of Finland peeked out from the bushes and Iceland gave a cry relief. He had never been so glad to see the Finn before and raced forward, throwing his arms around his neck and giving a soft sob.

"Finland...! I can't believe this is real. I can't believe it's real. Have you seen Norway? Have you seen Denmark? Or Hong Kong? Or anybody?"

Finland pried the Icelandic teen off of him, eyes wide.

"No, I didn't see anybody!"

Iceland stared at him for a second before backing away, nodding.

"Right then. We need to find them."

"I know," Finland nodded. He looked past Iceland to see France standing there awkwardly and smiled.

"Hi, France!"

"Bonjour, Finland."

"Do you guys have a camp set up?" Finland questioned, his purple eyes wide. Iceland nodded and opened his mouth to say something when a 'BANG' went off.

"What the-"

A figure streaked out of the woods, pale, eyes wide, panting. The figure turned to look at them and raced forward, stumbling over his own two feet and face-planting onto the ground just as a pack of wolves thundered out of the forest, their eyes wide and their muzzles soaked in blood.

"HELP!" Romano shrieked. "HELP!"

The three rushed forward, Finland tackling a wolf that had been about to pounce on the Italian. France grabbed Romano and yanked him to his feet and the two stumbled backwards, Romano panting and clinging to France's white shirt.

Iceland surged forward, grabbing a stick and using to to hit one wolf on the head, however the damage was next to nothing. The eight wolves scampered around, some looking ready to attack and the others cold and calculating.

Finland, Iceland, Romano, and France all backed away slowly, raising fists (and in Iceland's case, a stick) threateningly. They neared the shore of the water and took cautious steps backward.

The leader of the pack (or so it seemed) glared at the four of them and turned to the rest of his pack. He gave a bark and scampered off into the woods, his mates following him.

"They don't like the water," Finland observed.

"They got America," Romano said, eyes wide. "They got America. We were running. And then...And then he fell. I looked back. So much blood."

Iceland was surprised to see tears running down his face. It must have been a horrible experience for the Italian to watch that happen right before his eyes.

Finland wrapped a comforting arm around Romano and looked towards the woods, eyes wide with fear. Iceland clutched his stick to his chest, glaring at the woods as if daring them to unleash whatever hellish creatures they could and watch him defeat them.

"Well," France said in a falsely cheery voice, though they all noticed the slight waver in his ally's death, "There's still a possibility he's alive, right?"

Romano glared at him.

"I know what I saw, bastardo. He's dead."

Silence.

"So," Finland whispered, we're really going to do this until we're all dead, aren't we?"

~SHITTY CHAPTER I'M SORRY D:~


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay.**

**I screwed up in counting.**

_**Again.**_

**Silly author-chan, does she need to go back to pre school?**

**Ugh.**

**Belarus was never there.**

"_Petilande_, gather some more leaves and twigs, I don't think this is enough," France said, examining the pile of kindling.

The death of America did not seem to be bothering him but Iceland suspected deep down he was hurting. Deep down. He himself was in shock, too much shock to contradict France for calling him _Petilande_.

How could _America _die? He was one of the strongest nations out there, yet it was less than twenty-four hours and he was...

Dead.

Gone.

No longer existing.

How could this happen? Who were these people? What did they have against the nations?

Iceland dumped an armful of twigs onto the pile of kindling and sat down. It was almost completely black, and France had his back turned. After a minute, he stepped back, a small flame burning, and cupped his hand around his mouth, blowing the fire.

Iceland never really understood why blowing the fire was supposed to help. Norway had explained it to him once, but he had still been confused.

_Norway. _

The thought of his brother assuring him that he would find him brought back the memory of those people, and Hong Kong's promise to help him out.

_Hong Kong. _

Iceland barely knew him. He knew next to nothing about Hong Kong. Yet he had offered to help him find his only family member when he hardly knew him.

What did he want? Surely he wanted _something. _He wasn't just acting out of kindness.

There was a time when Iceland believed there was good in people. A time when he believed that everybody had kindness inside them. And this was true, for some. But for others, not so much.

Some people had not a single ounce of kindness inside them. Some people did things purely for their own benefit and didn't give a crap for anybody else.

Iceland had grown used to people like that, and he knew that not everybody did something nice to just be nice.

But what could Hong Kong possibly want? Iceland had nothing except a couple hundred volcanoes. And fish.

He was brought out of his thoughts with Finland speaking.

"-was thinking maybe we should go find his body."

"What?" Iceland asked, looking at the Finn who had been talking to France.

"I was thinking we should find America's body and bury it, give him a nice funeral," Finland answered, his purple eyes a little dull. It had been he who had found the young nation when he was a child, so Iceland understood his pain and want to bury America.

" Ég þarf Noregi...I'm hræddur."

(I need Norway...I'm scared.)

"Ymmärrän...Mutta haluan haudata Amerikka." Finland said softly.

(I understand...But I want to bury America.)

"Possiamo trovare il tuo fratello apena ci seppellire che hamburger bastardo," Romano cut in.

(We can find your brother as soon as we bury that hamburger bastard.)

"You speak Finnish?" Finland asked, surprised.

"When your country no longer exists, you have a _lot _of time on your hands. Hell, I bet I know more languages than you two combined."

"This isn't a competition to see who can speak the most languages," Iceland sighed. "Let's just find America."

They nodded and the three split up in search for the American, using the moonlight as a guide through the dark woods. France stayed behind to find fruit or something.

Iceland peered through bushes, wondering why they all deserved this. Why? What had they done? What had he done? What has America done?

_A lot, _a nasty voice said in the back of his mind.

_Shut up_, he sighed mentally.

The sky was turning pink by the time he gave up. Cursing, he made his way back to camp. Once he arrived, he was greeted by Romano dragging a lifeless America out of the jungle.

"I found him," he panted, "He a-was right where he a-died."

"I'm surprised," Finland's voice said behind Iceland. Icelabd turned to see him warming himself in front of the fire. "Didn't the lady say if we die we get sent back?"

"Who cares?" Romano sighed. "I'm a-just glad I a-found him."

There was a guilty look in his eyes, as if he blamed himself for the American'a death.

"What's that?" Iceland asked, suddenly noticing the bag strapped to Romano's back.

"Guns. He was carrying them."

A moment of silence. Then-

"I dug a grave," France's voice said quietly. They turned to see him standing there with dirt stains on his knees and mud on his hands. "In the jungle."

They all glanced at each other and noddes. They followed France to the hand-dug grave. It looked a bit uneven but they didn't have anything better. They lowered America into the whole slowly, but not before France took his glasses off. When Iceland gave him a funny look, he said,

"I'm going to give them to England if we find him."

Iceland looked down at America. There were bloodied claw marks on his face and very deep ones on his chest. Dried blood formed around the bitten hole in his throat. Despite being bloody, he looked peaceful, with his eyes closed. Iceland hadn't known him that well, but Iceland knew he was a good person.

"So...Um, speech, anybody?" Finland asked.

"I'll a-go first," Romano sighed. He stepped forward and looked down into his grave.

"I didn't a -know you that well. Except that you were a-obsessed with hero shit. Always talking-a about it. Well...You a-died saving my life. I guess you a-died a hero, then. Thank you. Rest in peace, hero bastard."

Romano stepped back, done with his speech. Finland was crying silently.

"Well, Amerique...You met a noble end, if I say. I was annoyed by you a lot but you were like a second son to me. An annoying son. An annoying ally. An annoying friend," France sighed, "But rest in peace, as Romano said, America."

He stepped back. Finland was crying violently now. Iceland looked down once again at America. He could imagine him shaking his head at the four of them. He wouldn't want them to be so sad. This he knew. His thoughts were interrupted by Romano, who began singing,

"_Oh say can you see_

_By the dawn's early light?_

_What so proudly we hailed,_

_At the twilight's last gleaming,"_

Iceland recognized it as America's national anthem. He did not know all of the words but he joined in with Romano. He, Finland, France, and Romano placed their right hands over their hearts and sang, slightly off-key with their accents clashing horribly together,

"_Who's broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight_

_Over the ramparts we watched,_

_Were so gallantly streaming?" _

Finland's crying soon took control of his voice and he stopped singing, sobbing.

"_And the rocket's red glare_

_The bombs bursting in air_

_Gave proof through the night_

_That our flag was still there." _

They finished and looked at each other in silence. They then covered America, bending over and covering his grave as the sun rose in the sky. They marked it with a hand made cross.

Finland then pulled out four guns and handed one to the each of them. Iceland looked at him, confused, but got the message quickly.

The four stood against the pale dawn sky, aiming at the sky and fired once in unison.

_BANG. _

They cocked their guns again with a _click_. Iceland looked down at the grave of Alfred F. Jones.

_BANG. _

They cocked their guns for the last time and took a deep breath.

_BANG._

_))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))_

_Okay, sometimes when I upload things, words will be deleted from my drafts and be replaced with just blank spaces. I've tried fixing them but it doesn't work._

_So sorry about that inconvenience!_

_Love,_

_DenNorRusCanHongIce_


	12. Chapter 12

The four of them walked away from the grave, neither of them looking back. Iceland had not known America that well. He had not hung out with him or anything. But his chest still hurt, like he had just lost a family member.

Maybe they really all were a big family. He'd never was particularly close to France or Romano, but they were acting like...

Like they were family.

Like they needed to be protected,

in this madness,

in this insanity.

"We should probably find food," Finland sniffed once they reached camp. "And find the others and work on a plan to get out of here."

"Somehow, I don't a-think that's a-possible," Romano said quietly. "I think we're a-stuck here."

"Don't say things like that!" Finland snapped. "We're going to be getting out of here soon, Su-San and Denmark and England and the others will help us!"

"I don't a-think so, we're a-stuck here," Romano sighed.

"No!" Finland cried, tears pricking his eyes, "No, I refuse to believe that!"

"Then believe it-a!" Romano growled, "All hope is a-lost!"

Finland spun around, his hands reaching out and closing around Romano's throat, his violet eyes flashing something dangerously close to a look of Russia's. Iceland yelped in surprise and France stared in shock. Romano flinched as Finland spat,

"We're going to get out of here alive, just you watch, mister! I don't like your negative attitude!"

"What are you-a, my _mama_?"

Finland pursed his lips, tears cascading down his face. He let go of Romano's throat and sat down on the ground, sobbing into his hands. Iceland didn't understand why until he remembered what Sealand called Finland.

'Mama.'

Where was the micro-nation now? Was he suffering? Dead? Alive?

"Guys." Iceland said. "Guys. We shouldn't be fighting. Soon, we'll turn on each other, and I bet that's exactly what that lady wants."

"I...I just..." Finland continued to sob. France awkwardly patted his back. Iceland, needing something to do, to find some time to think, turned to Romano and said,

"C'mon, let's go look for some food."

Without saying anything or questioning the other, the Italian followed the Icelander into the jungle.

"You scale the trees for fruit or something," Iceland instructed. Romano raised a brow.

"Since when do-a I take order from a-you? Besides, your thinner and smaller, it would be-a better if you a-climbed the tree instead of me-a," He said.

Iceland looked at the tree, then back down at Romano. He was a bit larger than him, in weight and height. Iceland nodded and looked at a low hanging branch and placed his foot on it, testing it to see if it would hold. Thankfully, it did, and he balanced onto it, reaching up to grasp another branch.

Iceland took a deep breath and reached out to grab another branch, gasping a bit as the one he was standing on wobbled dangerously.

"Be a-careful for ones that a-split off more ways than two-a, those tend to be more brittle," Romano informed him from behind.

"Thanks," Iceland said, not really keen on this idea of climbing the trees, but he could spot what looked like bright circles of fruit from above. Marking this as his target, Iceland stepped onto a higher branch, wincing as a small _crack _emitted from it.

Iceland looked for a nearby branch but the only other one he saw was one that was fairly thin. Wondering if it could support his weight, he reached an arm out and yanked on it as hard as he could. When it still held, he lifted his leg and placed his foot on it, gripping the tree trunk so he wouldn't fall and raised himself onto the branch.

He was about eight or nine feet up now, and was already feeling a bit dizzy, and the fruit had to be about forty or fifty feet higher. Iceland took a steady breath to calm his nerves and looked around for another branch. there was one three feet up from his left, that looked pretty strong and sturdy, however the only way to get onto it would be to jump.

Bracing himself, Iceland let go of the safety of the tree trunk briefly to jmp onto the higher branch, gasping as it drooped dangerously. But it held. Thanking his insane luck, Iceland continued on liek this, and it wasn't until fifteen or twenty feet up did any danger occur.

He had reached out for a branch, forgetting to see if it was able to hold his weight, when it broke off and he slipped off the branch he was currently standing on, sliding down three feet with his skin scraping roughly against the bark and he wrapped his arms around the trunk firmly, gasping.

"Are you okay?!" Romano's voice called from below. The Italian actually looked concerned.

"Yeah," Iceland said loudly, "Yeah, I'm fine."

He took a few breaths and then made his way back up, being extra careful this time.

_This was a bad idea. _

But it was too late to turn back now. He could see a bright red apple just ten feet above him. At least, it looked like an apple. Iceland jumped onto another branch, wincing as it drooped. But it held. grinning, he reached out to grab the apple and closed his hand around it firmly, tugging it and looking down.

"Romano!" he called, "Catch!"

He tossed the apple down and the Italian caught it.

"Good!" he called back up, "See if you can-a get about three more!'

Iceland looked up.

"I think I can do that!"

Iceland stepped onto another branch, breathing hitching slightly as it cracked. But it held. Iceland reached up for another juicy-looking apple, smiling.

it looked so good...

A whizzing sound filled his ear and a split second later, an arrow seemed to have sprouted from his hand. At first, he was too shocked to make any noise. All life seemed to have stopped.

Then blood dripped from the wound, and it became real to him.

Shrieking in pain, Iceland lost his hold on the branch he was holding and titled backwards. Hand fumbling for the branch, he took a step back a second too late before he remembered he had nothing to support his foot and nothing to step back on.

Gasping, he fell backwards with a swooping sensation and plummeted to the ground, screaming as the arrow in his hand made it throb painfully.

_I'm going to die._


	13. Chapter 13

Iceland fell through the air, slowly, feeling like time was shredding through his clothes, his skin, his breathing, everything slowing down, stopping, until nothing existed but the pain in his right hand.

The arrow that brought blood to his hand was long and looked to be made out of oak of some sort. Though Iceland couldn't tell. He was falling through the air, for god's sake.

"EINHVER NÁ MÉR!" He shrieked, violet eyes wide, his voice leaving him as soon as the pressure of the wind built up on his chest and the wind whistled in his ear.

(SOMEBODY CATCH ME!)

His hands scrabbled at air as time sped back up and he felt his fingers close around the rough texture of a branch. Everything seemed to freeze for a delicate second before a fiery pain shot up his arm as it was nearly pulled out of it's socket, but thankfully it didn't.

He was fifteen feet from the ground and his arm had gone strangely numb, both of them in fact. Romano was screaming "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!" from below and a terrified cry rang through the woods.

There was a rush of hair, and Iceland felt like all of the breath had been knocked out if his chest as he blacked out.

"I can''t believe you dragged me all the way over here," Norway growled at his Denmark, who was dressed in a red suit while he himself was dressed in a navy blue one.

"Well you're not the only one here, a bunch of other nations are here as well," Denmark responded smiling. Iceland, dressed in his usual outfit but with nicer shoes and a more formal shirt, his hair combed.

"Well, I don't want to be part of a 'whole bunch of nations', so can we go home?" Iceland sighed, crossing his arms. Denmark shook his head.

"Guys! This is supposed to be the biggest orchestral symphony of the year! Usually Norway's ecstatic about that kinda stuff! And you like it. don't you Iceland?"

"I don't like it."

"Well too bad, because you two are going to sit through it!'

"I had other plans tonight, Dane!" Norway growled up at the taller man.

"Guys, please?" Denmark asked, pouting out his lower lip and staring at the two. Annoyance surging trough the Icelandic teen, Iceland rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Fine."

"Great! Now can you two smile and look like you actually want to be here?"

"Do we have to?" Iceland snapped. Denmark glared down at him, for once looking intimidating. Exchanging glances, Norway and Iceland sighed and forced smiles onto their faces. Denmark took a few steps back, eyes wide and looking kind of freaked out.

"My god, that's terrifying," He said, the corner of his eye twitching. "We're here to see a bunch of people play violins and cellos, not go to an insane asylum because you tried to kill Batman."

The two brothers stopped smiling and in unison brought their fists up to meet each of the Dane's shoulders.

"Ow!" he cried, rubbing them and actually looking like it hurt. "You guys are so mean to me!"

"Just shut up," Norway sighed. Iceland crossed his arms again. The two brothers had been forced into going to see this symphony with Denmark, Canada, England, Prussia (who was going because of Denmark and Canada) Austria, Hungary (going for Austria) China and a few of the East Asians.

"Try smiling again!"

The brothers growled and smiled again. Denmark flinched.

"Norway, less teeth, you look like the Joker tied with a shark who just found his lunch. Iceland...Iceland, just stop trying. Stop it. Both of you stop trying. Forget about it! It's too scary to watch!"

The brothers continued to smile and stare at Denmark, until he whimpered and said,

"Fine, you guys can go home! Screw it, I didn't even want to see a symphony any ways!"

Norway and Iceland brought their hands up respectively to hit Denmark on the shoulder again as they turned and left the lobby of the theatre. At the door, Iceland turned to tell Norway something when he felt his shoulder collide into somebody's chest an his head snapped back to look at them and apologize.

Iceland looked down at the Asian teen with choppy hair and eyes that seemed to be unusually bright as he got to his feet, dusting the dirt off of his pants and looking up at the Icelandic teenager.

"Sorry," Iceland apologized at once. He smiled.

"That's, like, okay. I'll just, like, learn to pay attention where I'm, like, going so that doesn't like, happen again!"

Iceland bit his lip, feeling his heart rate increase slightly. The boy was good-looking. But he was already pushing past him, turning his head to look at the slightly shorter, yet older Asian man next to him and say something.

Denmark, Norway, and Iceland made their way to the car, but once they got there Norway turned, a small smirk placed on his lips.

"What do you want?" Iceland scowled, in a bit of a bad mood.

"Nothing," Norway said airily, and opened the passenger door, stepping in. "But that boy sure was cute, wasn't he?"

"Shut up," Iceland sapped, raising his foot and kicking the Norwegian's seat.

Iceland opened his eyes, staring up at the pale blue sky of the island. The first thing he felt was pain. Pain in his head. Pain in his stomach. Pain in his hand. He sat up, wincing slightly as he looked at the bloody wound on his hand and on his stomach.

Memories of pain flashed through his head and he winced at the thought of it, bringing his fingers to brush a slight bump on his head. Iceland's vision was a bit blurry as he scanned the beach, seeing France and Finland asleep, Romano with his back turned and tending to the fire.

Iceland turned his head and his heart skipped a beat; Poland and Norway both sat there, Poland with a bow and a quiver of arrows and Norway slumped against a fallen log, holding his leg at a funny angle.

If Iceland didn't feel like if he moved he would shatter into thousands of tiny pieces, he would've raced over to Norway and hugged him. because he was relieved he was still alive, of course..!

"Iceland, your awake," Romano's voice said. Iceland turned to see he stood there awkwardly, standing up a bit funny.

"I kind of a-hurt myself when I a-caught you," Romano said, shrugging. "It turns out that the a-Polish bastard a-shot you by accident."

"Iceland!" Poland said, noticing the Icelander was awake, "Iceland, oh my gosh, I am, like, so sorry!"

"It's okay," Iceland said. "I just feel like shit."

Norway looked up at Iceland and smiled. An actual smile, not one that looked like he was about to kill Batman. Iceland raised a brow. He was half expecting for him to get up and hug him, but he didn't. So instead Iceland crawled over, ignoring every surge of pain and wrapped his arms around his older brother.

They shared their brotherly moment, relief escaping from both of them before they withdrew.

"So," Norway said quietly, "America is dead?"

Romano and Iceland nodded. Poland stared at the ground, looking a bit solemn.

"Hmm," Norway looked up at the sky and Iceland noticed for the first time his eyes were a little glazed over, "Well I don't really hold much hope for Anko anymore."

Not really wanting to ask what he meant by that, Iceland sat back on his heels and the four of them looked out at the waves of the ocean. After a few minutes Iceland winced again as pain went shooting up his arm. he looked down at his hands, wincing again as his neck hurt in doing so.

There was no wound to signify that an arrow had been shot through, however it looked a bit yellow and of course it hurt like holy fucking hell. Iceland rubbed his finger over where the wound would have been, silently thanking his country healing abilities...

He looked over at Norway.

"What happened to your leg?"

Norway looked down at it.

"I was running from a few wolves when I tripped over a root and snapped my ankle," He said a little carelessly, shrugging one shoulder. There was a pause and Iceland hugged Norway again, feeling tears come to his eyes. Noticing this, Norway frowned.

"What's the matter?"

"I...I just," Iceland took a breath and Romano placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't over a-exert yourself, you a-just fell out of a fucking a-tree."

Iceland nodded, staring down solemnly at his hands again. He had been about to spill and say that he was tired of this already, he wanted to go home, how many others could be dead, he was sick of this and the pain that was currently making his head pound.

The four sat in silence until Poland announced he was going to go and find some water. They watched the blonde trudge silently over to the trees, head bowed slightly.

"He didn't mean to shoot you," Norway said once he was gone.

"I know."

"How did a-you two end up together?" Romano asked, sitting down next to Norway.

"We just woke up right next to each other. We went out hunting to find food and Poland thought he saw an arrow moving through the trees. Turns out it was Iceland, not an animal, but we found that out the hard way."

"How can you walk if your leg is hurt?" Iceland asked Norway.

"I just can, because I'm fabulous."

"I see a rough twenty-four to thirty-six hours with Poland has certainly taken quite a toll on you, brother dearest."

"Yes, quite."

"How a-come your leg is not a-healed yet, fairy bastard?"

"The older a country is, the longer it takes for a wound to heal," Norway explained.

"Well, that explains it," Iceland noted, trying to get more comfortable on the sand and try to relax his aching muscles.

"Explains what?" France's voice yawned from behind them. Iceland turned to see him standing, sand covering his clothes and his hair a bit mussed up.

"How it takes longer for a country to heal the older they are," Norway said.

"Ah," France nodded, sinking down next to Iceland. Iceland watched wave after wave roll, some calmly and some roughly, a few fish flapping their tails here and there.

"How long was I out?"

"About nine hours," France answered him.

"Hmmm...I'm hungry."

"You and everybody else," Norway yawned, "I would have caught some fish but I kind of can't right now."

The five sat in even more silence with Finland still snoozing on. Iceland was thinking about the dream he had. That had happened about a year ago, and he was wondering why he dreamt of that. Was it a sign that Norway was going to be here?

"Where do you a-think my a-fratello is?" Romano asked softly from Norway's side.

"I bet he's fi-"

A shriek cut through the air, silencing Norway. It ran on for a few seconds, like somebody was running from something, and then it just stopped.

They all glanced at each other, eyes wide and they got to their feet as quickly as they could, what with Norway's leg injury and Iceland's...Hurting everything. They had gotten to their feet so quickly because of this despite injuries

because that scream was their Polish friend's.

_**LATE CHAPTER IS LATE! DX**_

_**I am so sorry about the wait, guys! I honestly intended to put this up sooner, but I had the whole thing written in freaking Romanian so I had to re-write it in English.**_

_**It was rushed and sucky. I AM SORRY. IT'S SO SHORT TOO. I least I think. I'm on my tablet. :/**_

_**I should stop going to McDonald's so often, that's how I posted this...**_


	14. Chapter 14

They ran (or, in the case of Norway and Iceland, limped) into the jungle, eyes wide and frantic as they scanned the area for their blonde-haired friend. Romano, easily the fastest (what with Iceland and Norway being injured and France having just woken up, and possibly mafia training of some sorts...) sped ahead, leaping over roots with gracefulness worthy of an Olympic runner.

Iceland brushed a few wavering low-hanging branches of trees and jumped over a thick root that bulged out of the ground, avoiding face-planting into the moist earth. Norway, however, was less lucky, and he went down, his forehead smacking against France's leg and causing the French man to stumble and fall.

Romano glanced back at the other three and slowed down somewhat. Iceland helped the two to their feet when another shriek came- it was nearby and not very far, and wasn't as loud, but who knew what kind of danger Poland could be in?

"This a-way!" Romano said, pointing violently to the left and racing past trees and bushes, going towards where the scream seemed to be coming from. Iceland limped after him, eyes scanning through the shades of green for a bright blonde head when he suddenly felt nothing beneath his left foot and he sunk into a hole.

Gasping, Iceland's eyes widened as he fell to the ground, his leg having into a hole and bringing him down. There was a rustle and Romano grabbed his shirt, yanking him upwards and they burst into a clearing to see Poland on the ground.

The first thing they did was give a sight of relief.

Poland was still alive and was staring in horror, his blonde hair a little mussed up and his almond-shaped eyes wide in terror and stared, panting at an object that hovered five feet from the ground. What this object was, they found out as they stepped for a closer look.

It was Denmark, hanging from the tree by his foot, blood dripping down a cut in his forehead and eyes closed, his coat had fallen to the floor and he seemed to be...

Dead?

"Is he...Is he alive?" Norway was the first to speak, stepping forwards and reaching a hand out to touch the Dane's face. Poland stared, eyes wide, and said,

"I-I was, like, running because, like, I thought I had heard something, and then like, something jumped out at me, so like, I ran, and then, like, I ran right into Denmark while he's hanging like this and like, that's what happened!"

"It's okay, it's nothing to be freaked out about it," France said reassuringly, placing his hand on the shorter man's shoulder. Poland took a few breaths, eyes widening, and he got to his feet. Norway's fingers traced lightly over Denmark's cheeks and nose before placing a hand on his heart.

"It's beating," he said softly. There was silence for a moment. Then Norway tapped Denmark's nose gently and it twitched, and his face crinkled a little in annoyance. Norway's breath hitched slightly and Iceland watched him tap his nose again, harder this time.

"Idiot, wake up. Wake up."

"How'd he a-get like that-a?" Romano wondered aloud. Iceland shrugged, watching Norway tap the Dane's nose several more times. Finally, face wrinkled in distaste, Denmark's eyes fluttered open sleepily and with slightly cloudy eyes he gazed at Norway, looking surprised for a second. there was silence; Then Denmark lifted his arms (Or...Whatever you call it when you're hanging upside down by your foot) and caressed Norway's face with his hands before gently closing the distance between them.

Finally, Iceland thought silently. He had known for a while that the two had feelings for each other, but now they had acted on them, he felt a whole lot more patient and better for reasons unknown. Iceland watched the two share their Spider-Man kiss before he suddenly imagined himself doing that with Hong Kong. Flinching at his thoughts, Iceland was about to mentally abuse himself when he stopped dead.

The dream he had.

The one with the strange Asian boy at that concert.

It had been Hong Kong.

How had he not realized it sooner? He had, indeed, met the boy before. But how did he not realize that until now? How many more times has he possibly come into contact with Hong Kong?

"Petilande? Are you okay?" France asked him, noticing the change in him. Iceland frowned for a moment, a flood of thoughts entering his mind and spreading around before he shook his head to clear it, then scowled up at the taller French nation.

"Stop calling me Petilande!"

"Sorry," France smirked.

"What the hell does 'Petslandii' mean?" Denmark asked.

"Hello, Denmark. Nice to see you haven't changed."

Denmark puffed out his chest proudly.

"The king of Scandinavia never goes down without a- Ow!"

Norway had cut the rope that was hanging him and he fell to the ground with an almighty crash, wincing slightly in pain. Iceland smirked slightly and Poland laughed.

"How did you end up suspended, idiot?"

"I dunno," Denmark said, shrugging. "I was walking, looking for food for Sweden and I, when-"

"Wait, Sweden?" Poland asked, cutting him off, "He's like, around here?'

"yeah, we woke up next to each other! He wants to find Finland real bad!"

"Finland is back at camp," Norway explained, "Speaking of which, we shouldn't leave him alone for too long..."

"Yeah, that would be unwise," France agreed, nodding. Iceland looked at Denmark, then hesitantly gave him a brotherly hug. Denmark grinned and ruffled his hair, about to say something when a growl cut him off.

At first they could not pinpoint where this ominous growling was coming from, but then Poland nudged Iceland's side and looked fearfully at a few bushes.

There, more than a dozen pair of bright amber eyes glowed.


	15. Chapter 15

At once, Denmark stood in front of Norway and Iceland protectively, flinging an arm out over Norway's chest, which the brothers understood as 'stay back.'

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" Romano growled, bending down at once and grabbing a sharp-looking stick by his foot. Poland gripped his bow and arrows tightly, squinting at the amber eyes with distaste.

There was a pause, in which it seemed time had been frozen and the amber eyes all blinked in unison, before a nose poked out of the bushes and the snout of a large dog-no, a wolf- poked out. Several wolves stepped out of the bushes, eyes narrowed.

Iceland felt his breath catch and he stared intently at the wolves, daring them to approach. The seeming leader of the pack, easily the largest with a coat of silvery-gray fur, glared up at them, cocking it's head to the side before snarling.

That alone caused the rest of the pack to surge forward, jaws opening and releasing out hellish growls, one managing to leap onto Iceland's chest and knock him backwards. Hands scrabbling desperately at it's fur to pull it off of him, Iceland fell onto his back, eyes wide as the dock snapped it's jaws wildly, trying to take a bite out of his throat.

The wolf atop of him was flailing wildly, claws raking across his arms and bringing bloody, jagged lines as it did so, and he was too focused on trying to get it off of him to pay any attention to anything else going on. The wolf backed off of him slightly only to jump back on with extreme force, inning Iceland down to the ground and it's claws digging deep into his chest.

Fiery pain, lashed from the area and he groaned as it dug it's claws deeper, snarling. Iceland reached up to close his fingers around it's throat, squeezing and feeling it's throat being crushed beneath his fingers.

The wolf yelped and snapped it's jaw at his nose, one of it's teeth raking a cut along the bridge of his nose and causing him to wince and he was too distracted to notice the other wolf lumbering towards him until he felt it's jaws close around his calf.

Shrieking, Iceland managed to shove the wolf off of him with a shove and knock into the other wolf, who was yanked sharply from his calf, taking bits and pieces of flesh with it, and Iceland looked down to see the bloody tatters of his pants, where a dark, bleeding wound could be seen. Iceland tried to get to his feet but he winced badly and fell back down again, shrieking as he saw another wolf, noticeably smaller but still large.

The wolf crept up to him, eyes sliding from his face to look down on the wound in his calf. As if sensing this area was in pain the most, it snapped forward, jaw snapping open to bite into it deeper when a stick was plunged through it's throat and it choked, wheezed, and fell over, eyes rolling into the back of it's head.

Romano yanked the stick sharply out of the wolf's throat, eyes wide and extending a hand towards Iceland, who grasped it firmly and was yanked to his feet where he tried to focus his weight onto his left leg rather than his right.

Denmark seemed to be wrestling one wolf, which was trying to bite him as he closed his hands around it's jaw, forcing it's lower jaw to snap into it's upper before he took a rock and smashed it against it's skull with a sickening CRACK. The dog fell limp instantly and he sat back on his heels and lunged towards another wolf that Poland was having trouble fending off.

Iceland felt Romano grip his upper arm and squeeze tightly, saying, "Don't move, bastard," before he raced towards two wolves fighting.

At least, Iceland thought it was two wolves fighting before he realized that two wolves were currently attacking Norway, who was flat on the ground and kicking wildly at a wolf that had latched onto his leg, biting hard just above his knee and deep red blood seeped from the wound, soaking his pants while meanwhile he was working on shoving off the leader of the pack that was biting his upper arm and clawing at his stomach.

Iceland screamed "NORWAY!" and the wolf on his chest snapped it's head up just in time to see Romano bring the stick down on it. The dog leaped back in time to only get a minor graze on it's flank and barked loudly. A tall figure barreled out of the woods and a shot was fired.

It was Sweden.

Iceland fell to his knees and crawled over to where Norway was laying, still struggling to shove the dog off his leg but weakening. The scratches along his stomach formed a sickening crisscross pattern and blood was shining in a pool beneath him. Iceland drew his fist back, and not knowing if this would help at all, he punched the wolf in it's flank with as much strength as he could muster.

The wolf was jerked back but he was still gripping onto Norway's leg, which caused him to scrape the cut even worse and tear off a good chunk of his pant leg. Norway shrieked in pain and Iceland looked around for a rock desperately when he felt a pair of claws digging into his back and he was pushed to the ground, his nose smashing against the rough ground and he felt some sort of crackle.

He heard Romano groan and the high-pitched screech of a wolf before it ended abruptly and he felt the claws rake down his back, up and down and up and down repeatedly as the wolf clawed and clawed. A strong force yanked it off his back and he straightened up, gasping in pain as he shrugged off what was left of his jacket, a few shreds was what remained.

Iceland looked up to see Poland aiming an arrow at him. Eyes widening, he ducked his head just in time but heard a squeal behind him. he glanced back to see a wolf writhing in pain on the ground, the arrow buried in it's throat. It's last few moments where spent screeching in agony before it died, head hitting the ground.

Sweden and Denmark were lifting Norway up, who looked like he had just blacked out, blood seeping from his thigh and stomach, the entire left side of his face drenched scarlet, almost covering the scars on it.

There was an almighty war cry and France leaped down from the trees, landing on top of a dog and snapping it's spine, killing it instantly. Iceland got to his feet, back bent and hands scrabbling for something to support him.

Violet eyes glancing up, he watched two wolfs run straight towards Sweden and Denmark, one barreling into Sweden and knocking him over and the other jumping onto Denmark, bringing both he and Norway down.

It was like they had planned that move...

'These wolves are intelligent,' Iceland thought, eyes widening as his hands roamed the ground, searching for a large enough and sharp enough rock. Once he did, he lunged forward, bringing the rock to the wolf's skull that was currently snapping it's jaws at Denmark's face. It didn't kill the wolf but it dazed it greatly. He stumbled before he brought the rock down again with a CRACK.

The wolf fell limp atop of Denmark, who was gasping and panting heavily. Iceland stared at the wolf, eyes wide. He didn't like killing things. He didn't like killing animals. He didn't like killing anything with a pulse.

But now was not the time to feel any remorse.

He was pulled to his feet by Sweden, who had managed to send the wolf scampering away into the jungle and was at the same time managing to keep Norway aloft. Poland was shooting his arrows at the wolves but since he didn't have the advantage of distance, most missed.

His eyes canned the battle, roughly ten wolves remaining, some looking a little wary while others look downright murderous. France was supporting Romano, who had deep gashes across his left leg.

"This is insane!" Denmark yelled as he kicked a wolf's lower jaw. Iceland winced as heard the sickening CRACK once again that day and the wolf fell over backwards onto it's back, writhing and wriggling in discomfort.

At that moment a flash of blonde hair entered the battle- Finland. He had a gun ready and shot at a wolf that was about to tackle Poland down, and speckles of blood spattered onto the Polish man's face.

Iceland lunged forward as France was tackled from behind by a wolf and let go of Romano and he somehow managed to keep the heavier Italian on his feet. He could already feel the healing process beginning on his leg as he gripped Romano's upper arm.

"Shit," he was muttered, eyes glazed slightly, "Shit, shit, shit, shit..."

Finland screeched at a wolf and got it's attention, diverting it from attacking Denmark.

"LEAVE THEM ALONE!"

He fired at the wolf's flank. It buckled and another shot to it's head ended it's life quickly. Finland stared with wide eyes at it before he turned and fired at the wolf that had France pinned onto his stomach, the said French nation squirming and his hand reaching desperately for the gun Sweden had dropped earlier.

Iceland felt Romano collapse next to him and he looked over to Norway and Sweden, keeping a steadying arm around the Italian. His brother looked pale. Too pale. His breathing was slowing.

Feeling panic rise through his throat, he opened his mouth to yell out to Sweden to check Norway's pulse when a high-pitched shriek sounded and another fire rang through the jungle. The last four wolves or so howled into the night simultaneously and scrabbled away, barks loud and rough.

"FINLAND!" Sweden yelled, his voice the clearest Iceland had ever heard it. Iceland felt horror. He wanted to look to where Sweden was staring, eyes wide and horror and he laid down his older brother gently before rushing forward. He wanted to look, but he was afraid to.

Poland was sobbing incoherent words. Romano had fainted. Norway looked dead. Denmark was saying, "Finny! Finny!" France was cursing in French. And Finland...

He couldn't hear Finland.

He finally forced his eyes to look where Sweden was kneeling over Finland. Sweden's hand was on Finland chest and there was gaping, bloody hole in Finland's throat. Sweden eyes were wide and his glasses speckled with blood. Poland was kneeling down next to Finland, having shrugged off his shirt and was trying to staunch up the blood flow.

"F'nland," Sweden murmured, "Finland..."

"Su-San?"

His voice was weak. Breathy. Fading. Iceland lowered Romano to the ground carefully before startling forward, but his leg gave way beneath him and he crawled the rest of the way to the older nations.

"Finland?!"

"F'nl'nd," Sweden said softly. Finland's eyes were wide and glazed, staring at the sky. He looked back up at Sweden and made a gurgling sound with his throat. A bubble of blood formed at the corner of his mouth and popped, leaking a trail of blood down his chin.

"S-Su-San?..." His hand clutched at Sweden's, "S...Sweden."

Iceland clutched Finland's other hand as France looked down at them, eyes wide and his shirt torn with great gashes in it. Denmark looked ready to murder.

"Finland...You're not going to hurt anymore soon," Sweden said softly. Iceland blinked. His words were clear. He seemed to have lost his speech disability for a fraction of a second.

"Sweden...Sealand...Family?" It came out as a question from Finland's lips. His eyes glazed over and he took his last breath before his hand fell limp onto his chest.


	16. Chapter 16

Finland was dead. He was dead. The one that cared the most about all of them was dead. Gone, nonexistent, no longer alive. Iceland ran this thought repeatedly as Poland wrapped a shred of his shirt around his calf, handing Iceland a few seeds. Iceland raised a brow and Poland murmured,

"Poppy seeds. Eat them to relieve pain."

Hesitantly, Iceland placed a few in his mouth and began chewing. This tasted a little funny but after a moment his mind clouded over a bit and he wasn't feeling the pain as much as he used to.

Norway was out cold. They didn't know what condition he was in but they would when he woke up. Poland had explained you don't truly know what a person's condition is until they tell you the level of pain. If they feel pain, great. If they don't, well shit.

They had buried Finland next to America's grave and had been to exhausted and hurt and just...And just hurt, to say any words. Sweden did make a cross over it, as they had done to America's grave, and he picked out two bouquet's of flowers. He lay one on each grave.

France was searching for food and water with Denmark. They had all agreed it was less dangerous if they did things in pairs or groups of threes rather than venture alone.

Iceland didn't know what to do. Finland was dead. Norway was possibly close. America, one of the strongest out there, was the first to go. Sweden was talking less than usual and refused to make eye contact with anybody. Denmark was furious and had a short temper, kicking things and yelling words in Danish he was sure he didn't want to understand the meaning of. France was quick and jumpy and was on edge. Poland only talked if he was spoken to and had cut his hair supremely short. Short for him, anyways. Romano had resolved to nursing his wounds and sitting on a log and staring out into the distance and ignoring everybody.

And Iceland? He felt useless. He felt that, somehow, some way, he could have prevented those wolves from killing Finland. Somehow, he could have stopped it. But he didn't. No, he had been to injured to anything, but it was his fault for being so pathetically weak he couldn't do anything that he got injured.

They were now taking turns in looking for the others. Canada, England, and Hong Kong must be out there somewhere, but just where? Once they all got together again, it would be easier to ensure they stayed alive long enough to come up with a plan to get the hell out of there.

Iceland winced as Poland tightened the make-shift bandage around his leg and almost spit out the poppy seeds from a sudden surge of pain that made him want to throw up.

He looked over at Norway, desperate to find something else to look at that wasn't the bleeding mark on his calf. His brother lay, shirtless and with the majority of his right pant leg cut off, in the sand, head resting on France's jacket (the cleanest scrap of clothing any of them could produce that wasn't already being used to treat wounds) and looked to be asleep, yet his breathing was shallow and his the left side of his face was scarlet, coated in dried blood.

Now that it had dried it was a lighter shade than before but they were all too afraid to clean the blood off and look at the damage that had been done, though Poland said if he didn't wake up soon he would do it anyways so the wounds wouldn't infect.

Bandages that were mixed colors of pink (France's jacket) green (Poland's shirt) and blue (Sweden's coat) crisscrossed across his chest and wrapped around his torso, and a mass of white (France's scarf) was wrapped tightly around his right thigh. His body had specks and droplets and pools of dried blood all over it. Iceland knew he didn't look any better but it still made worry flit through him.

He was so wrapped in his thoughts he didn't hear the voice until it said loudly,

"HEY!"

He turned his head to see Poland smiling slightly, Canada at his right shoulder and Hong Kong at the other. Both looked a little dazed and squinted slightly at the sunlight- They looked like they had been kept in a dark place for a long time.

Iceland waved his hand to wave a little lazily, not wanting to get up and worsen his injury. Romano stood up and shook hands with both, eyes glazed over as he returned to his spot of solitude, thinking about something none of them could decipher.

"England should, like, be here soon, last time we saw him, like, he had gone to relieve himself," Hong Kong said as he sat down next to Iceland. Iceland looked down, blushing and suddenly realizing he was shirtless with bandages wrapped across his chest. Sure, the bandages helped, but he was still shirtless. He then frowned up at the boy who had sat across from him.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada," he said softly. Iceland took a moment to register this before guilt swarmed up in his chest and he choked out,

"C-Canada? You're America's b-brother, right?"

Canada nodded. He then glanced around, eyes scanning the jungle and the beach as he asked,

"Where is he? I would have expected to come tackle hug me by now."

Romano let out a slight choked sound that he quickly passed off for a cough. Iceland raised an eyebrow but he turned to look at Canada. He thought about telling him but...But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Romano saved him.

"America is dead," He said softly, staring out at the horizon. Canada froze, then his eyes looked over towards Romano. He was slumped over, staring at the ground.

"Dead?"

Romano nodded.

Canada stared at him for a long while. He then stood up and began walking down the beach, head bowed and shoulders shaking slightly. After he was gone, Romano stood up.

"I'm a-going with him-a."

Iceland was surprised. "Where's the nasty-tongued Lovino Vargas who doesn't take shit from nobody and cares about none?"

Romano stared at him, then lowered his eyes to the ground. "I'm a-going to protect a-him. I...He needs a big brother-a in this. And...That's the a-least I can do for the hero bastard."

Iceland stared at Romano for a long, long time. So that was it. He was feeling guilty. Had he been planning to take care of Canada as soon as he found him? It his mind, it kind of made sense. Besides, Canada could remind him of Italy. And he could feel this was some sort of repayment for America risking his life for him. A lot of things suddenly made sense to Iceland, but he just nodded and murmured, "Okay."

Romano took off after Canada as fast as he could go without furthering hurting his injuries. Iceland turned to look at Hong Kong and saw he was staring after Romano as well.

"So...What happened while I was, like, gone?" Hong Kong asked after a while.

"Um...America died. So did Finland. Norway..." Iceland didn't want to say it. He didn't even know WHAT to say. He's almost dead? Possibly dead? Possibly alive? Screwed?

"Norway is in bad condition," Hong Kong finished for him, glancing over at Norway's form laid out on the ground. Iceland nodded and he felt fear rise up through him again. Was his brother going to die? God no, please don't. Don't die. Don't...

His thoughts trailed off as he felt Hong Kong place his hand onto his, and his heart fluttered as Hong Kong said,

"I'll, like, try to get you out of here, like, alive, okay?"

Iceland nodded, trying to make all his fear go away. He thought about what had been bugging him and said quietly,

"I feel like it's my fault that Norway is the way he is right now. I could of had done something to help him."

"Don't, like, think like that," Poland said sharply from Hong Kong's side, speaking for the first time in a while, "It's not your fault, Ice."

Iceland just shook his head. "Then why does it feel like it is?"

"That's on you," Hong Kong said, corner of his mouth twitching upwards, "We don't, like, control what you think but, like, well...Just don't, like, think that, okay?"

Iceland stared at a patch of sand for a few minutes before nodding once.

"Okay."

"Good. Now, like, wipe the frown off your face!" Hong Kong said, laughing and poking Iceland's cheek. Iceland shrugged him off. He didn't want to engage in this childishness right now. He wanted to wallow and sulk and mourn.

"Look who I found," France's voice said from behind them, and they turned their heads to see France, Denmark, and England all standing there, England with his arm in a make-shift sling and Denmark and France holding coconuts and apples.

"I didn't know you could find apples in the jungle," Denmark remarked, setting them down, :I thought it was just pineapples and bananas and stuff."

"Nobody really knows what's in that jungle or why," England sighed, eyeing the jungle.

France bent down to set the food down before he just let it all drop as he glanced up and saw Canada and Romano returning. There was a few moments of silence, in which the two stared at each other, before France rushed forward and hugged Canada tightly, burying his nose softly into his hair. Canada let out a few sobs and wrapped his arms around his father figure as France whispered,

"Il est d' accord, mon fils."

(It's okay, my son.)

But Canada shrugged France off of him, cheeks stained with tears, and he turned his attention to America. He cleared his throat after a moment of intense breathing and said,

"Arthur, Al is...Al is..."

France's gaze hardened and he stared at the ground. England looked at the two of them curiously before France dug into his pocket and extracted America's glasses, which still had specks of blood on them. He held them out to the thick-browed nation, who stared at them as if they were some sort of different species from a different planet.

After a few moments, in which Iceland tensed up at the building tension in the atmosphere, England looked up at France, eyes wide. He slowly reached out for the glasses and France placed them gently in his hand, watching with sad eyes.

England looked down at the folded glasses and held them up to his eyes, looking at the spots of blood and he froze. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly let the glasses fall to the ground.

They seemed to fall in slow motion, sun flashing and causing a brief glare to flash in Iceland's eyes before they hit the ground and made a soft dent in the sand. England spun around and raced along the beach, head down and pumping his legs as fast as he could. He made fifty or sixty yard before he fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

Iceland looked down at the glasses before reaching out and picking them up. He cleared them of any sand and looked up at France. Canada had sat down and looked like he wanted to commit suicide. France was staring at where England had fallen, and then looked down to where Iceland was handing him the glasses. After a brief pause, France accepted them softly and began walking to England's spot on the beach.

Poland, Romano, Iceland, Hong Kong, Sweden, Denmark, all of them, watched as France handed him the glasses once again. England seemed to have been wiping his face clear of tears as he pushed the glasses onto his forehead, like somebody would do with sunglasses.

Iceland accidentally squeezed Hong Kong's hand tightly as the two nations slowly made their way back over to the rest of them. England sat down next to Canada and wrapped one arm protectively around his shoulder. France hesitated, then sat down on the other side of Canada and did the same thing.

Iceland frowned at this with a pang in heart as he looked over at Norway. He felt grief surge through him violently but he fought to keep it in. He allowed a single tear to escape but he felt a hand on his cheek and he looked over at Hong Kong. He was brushing the tear away, a firm look set on his face.

"Don't cry."

"I'm not going to," Iceland said, slipping his fingers out of Hong Kong's hand and watching France, England, and Canada. He imagined himself as Canada, and Denmark as France and Norway as England. He wished that were so. He wished he knew what his brother's possible fate was and he wished he was awake.

But that was not going to happen any time soon.

"Hong Kong?"

Hong Kong looked over at him, thick brows furrowed. "Yes?"

"Can you believe this?"

Hong Kong stared at the Icelandic teen for quite a bit before shaking his head.

"This shit is like, totally crazy."

Iceland stared off into the distance for a moment before he nodded.

"Yeah. It is."


	17. Chapter 17

"Do you think it's getting a bit...Cold?" A boy asked next to Iceland. Iceland frowned at him.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada, eh?"

_Who the hell is Canada? _Iceland thought but he chose to say nothing. Instead he just nodded and shrugged, and began to strip off bits of fish with his teeth. He glanced towards where a squirming Norway was trying to be held still by Poland. He was still asleep but everytime Poland touched him he squirmed around. It was making the Polish man very frustrated.

Hong Kong sat next to him, silently eating his own fish and watching France hold two more flapping fish still and hitting them sharply with a rock, skewering them on the edge of a stick.

"That's just sick, man..."

"Delicious and nutritious. Taste just like chicken."

"But it's, like, _fish._"

Iceland rolled his eyes and dug out a fishbone that had got caught under his tongue. Romano was checking his wounds and Denmark was trying to catch more fish. Sweden was asleep and England was drawing random lines in the sand with a stick. It was a day after they had found Hong Kong, England, and Canada, and it was going by a little slowly. They all had one intention:

To stay alive.

Iceland thought about how Hong Kong had took him to Starbucks, had promised to him to find his brother, had comforted him in this crazy shit, bumped into him at a sympho-

"I've met you before!" Iceland exclaimed, setting his fish down and looking towards Hong Kong. "Last year at a symphony!"

"Really?" Hong Kong mused, "I remember that night. I got, like, bumped into by a cute boy."

Iceland felt a light pink taint his face but he shook it away. "I just wonder why I didn't make the connection before."

"Eh, things slip your mind sometimes," the guy with the glasses said next to Iceland. Hong Kong was confused.

"When did you get there? Wait, _America? _Your supposed to, like, be dead!

The boy sighed and turned away. Iceland was puzzled but he returned his attention back to Hong Kong.

"You...You really think I'm cute?"

"Um, _yeah! _Your, like, adorable!" Hong Kong grinned. Iceland shook his head.

"No..."

"Yes you are."

Poland plopped down suddenly next to Hong Kong, his face grave. Iceland raised a brow as he said,

"I was, like, cleaning Norway's face and, like, I think he might not be able to, like, see out of his left eye anymore."

Iceland stared for a moment before swallowing the thick lump in his throat. "You mean like...Forever?"

"Probably so."

Iceland took a deep breath to steady himself before burying his head in his hands, shoulders shaking. Hong Kong patted his back awkwardly and his shoulders tensed slightly but he soon relaxed to the comforting touch. Iceland blinked the wetness that was beginning to form in his eyes and he straightened up, trying not to look at Norway.

Trying to do something else except think of his brother being partially blind, Iceland began humming a random American song and tapping out the beat on his leg. After a few moments, that Canananda dude or whatever his name was began humming as well. Sweden slowly woke up as Denmark brought over some fish and knelt down next to France, starting to kill the fish as well. After a moment, Romano began to hum as well, and the others paused in whatever they were doing to listen. Poland bent down to change Norway's bandages and began clicking the drum beat against his teeth.

Franxe raised a brow as he raised the rock to smash it against the fish's skull but he began humming as well. Denmark sang softly,

"Doh...Doh doh doh, doh...Doh doh doh doh doh.."

Hong Kong and England glanced at each other before joining in with Denmark. Sweden took a second to process before humming as well. They continued like this for another moment, Canada, Iceland, and Poland all beating the song's beat in their own ways before France sang,

"_This hit, that ice cold_

_Michelle Pfieiffer, that white gold_

_This one for them hood girls_

_Them good girls straight masterpieces," _

Iceland closed his eyes as he hummed and heard Romano join in as well.

"_Stylin', whilen, livin' up in the city _

_Got Chucks on with Saint Laurent_

_Got to kiss myself, I'm so pretty."_

The American tune seemed to lift his spirits ever so slightly as Poland sang,

" _I'm too hot (hot damn)_

_Called a police and a fireman_

_I'm too hot (hot damn)_

_Make a dragon want to retire man_

_I'm too hot (hot damn),"_

Iceland and Denmark sang the 'hot damn' while Hong Kong and England continued their 'doh''s.

"_Say my name you know who I am_

_I'm too hot (hot damn)_

_Am I bad 'bout that money, break it down,"_

They continued singing the song until it finished and when it did they began to sing another.

"_Now I'm four five seconds to wildin',_

_And we got three more days til Friday..."_

Iceland allowed himself to sing softly, singing had alwaus been a way for him to vent frustration. He remembered singing every one of his favorite songs to himself one night before he was lulled to sleep by his own voice. Hong Kong kept giving him funny looks as thry continued to the next song that popped into their head.

_"Are you, are you_

_Coming to the tree? _

_They strung up a man_

_They say who murdered three._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger will it be._

_If we met at midnight_

_In the hanging tree," _

Once they all got tired of singing, they slowly fell asleep to the full stomachs and the fire roaring softly. A chilly mist descended upon them and Iceland instinctively pressed himself close to Hong Kong. He blushed when he realized he had done so but Hong Kong wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

Ixeland slowly fell asleep, for the first time in a week, comfortably.

**Eh, I decided to give you guys a break for angst. Your gonna kinda be needing it. Whoops, I said too mu-*run over by a girafffe***

**This chapter kind of just...Happened. XD Idk what I did here.**

**Songs:**

**Uptown Funk**

**Four Five Seconds**

**The Hanging Tree**

**Too lazy to remember the artists. :P**

**I typed this on my phone so it sucks ball.**

**_Apologies!_**

**-Swiftleaf**

**(Lol I signed -Romano because I'm used to Romano's Diary XD)**


	18. Chapter 18

Iceland opened his eyes to find himself facing Hong Kong's face. The steady rush of rolling waves filled his ears and he blinked slightly at Hong Kong's sleeping form. how could he look so beautiful in his sleep when Iceland looked like a girl who just crawled out of bed with her hair in a mess?!

Whoa, calm down, his mind yelled, Since when was Hong Kong beautiful and when did you become a girl?

It took him a moment to realize over the rush of his own thoughts, the roar of the wind and waves, and the heavy snores emitting from Romano, France, and England that somebody was panting behind him. Blinking back groggily the dregs of sleep, Iceland turned onto his side to look at the scene before him.

Norway was awake and Poland was leaning over him, trying to soothe the panicking Norwegian with his hands on his chest, trying to calm his breathing. Norway was staring at the sky and his one good eye was wide as his chest rose and fell rapidly, hands scrabbling at the sand as he swallowed immensely, a light trail of blood dripping out of the corner of his mouth. Poland was whispering softly in an attempt to calm him down.

Iceland crawled over, feeling concern jerk through him as he got a good look at Norway's wounds- They were pale green and an ugly shade of yellow, a sure sign of infection.

"Holy shit..." He breathed, getting up onto his feet and rushing over, plopping down on the sand next to his older brother and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Nor, calm down. Calm down. Deep breaths. Deep breaths."

Norway did not seem able to hear him or see him- His hands were gripping at anything solid he could find, a handful of sand, the hem of Poland's shirt, eye wide open as he breathed heavily, and he seemed to be whimpering, though Iceland couldn't hear over the loud wind blowing. The wind seemed to make it much more ominous and chilly. He shivered.

"What happened?" he asked Poland, who looked down at Norway with something like fear in his eyes. The blonde swallowed and fiddled with the end of his ponytail before saying,

"I just, like, woke up to go, like, use the restroom and, like, he woke up when I got back and, like, started having a freaking panic attack!"

From behind Iceland he heard a snort before somebody said groggily,

"Someone is a-having a panic attack?"

"Norway," Iceland murmured, not needing to look behind him to know it was Romano.

Romano crawled over, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he glanced down at Norway. After a moment he said clearly,

"Calm a-down. Your little brother is a-here. Denmark is a-here."

Norway seemed to calm down a bit after that, breathing relaxing and his eye flickering around everywhere, not focusing on anything before he slurred,

"I...I c-can't s-s-see, why c-can't I see?"

Iceland and Poland glanced at each other and Romano muttered something like 'shitballs.' Poland looked back down at Norway and gently laid a hand on the blind side of Norway's face, pressing his fingers softly to the clawed skin. Norway flinched at the sudden movement, and his breathing picked up again as his good eye trained on Iceland.

"Why...Can't...I...See?" he slurred again, coughing slightly.

"Bro, you...You're eye...You're face, it's just..." Iceland did not know how to tell it to him. He didn't and he needed a voice because this shit was crazy and he just didn't know how to tell his brother that he was fucking blind.

"Norway," Poland spoke him for him, his voice low and clear, but Norway was starting to panic again, clutching Poland's shirt again. Iceland felt a hand on his back and he jumped slightly, looking back to see Hong Kong blinking sleepily, yawning.

"What, like, happened? What's wrong with him?"

"He's having a panic attack," Iceland said, looking back down at his older brother. He was panting, his face breaking out in sweat as more blood escaped the corner of his mouth.

Hong Kong stared at Norway for a moment before reaching over and grabbing his hand loosely. Norway clenched his hand and Iceland grabbed Norway's other free hand, giving it a tight squeeze and trying to make his brother calm down. Romano stood up and began to strip off his maroon shirt, his jacket discarded as he began to rip the shirt into shreds.

"I need you to go get some water," Poland instructed Iceland. Iceland nodded and began to stand up but fell instantly back down, muscles aching still from the struggle days before. Hong Kong placed a concerned hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off. A cool breeze hit his cheek and he shivered, though nowhere near as violently as Norway.

"I'll get some water," a voice said softly. Iceland glanced back to see a kid with blonde hair and glasses. His name tickled the back of his mind and he struggled with it for a second, but then he said,

"Good morning, Canada."

He blinked in surprise.

"You remember me?"

"Yes, though it was difficult."

The Canadian smiled widely and picked up two halves of a coconut shell and walked out into the ocean. Canada shivered as soon as he did.

"It's s-s-so c-cold," He chattered, "The wind doesn't h-h-help."

"The sooner you, like, get water, the sooner we can, like, boil it and use it to treat his wounds," Poland said, nodding to Norway, who was calming down considerably, though his shoulders were shaking.

"I need you to, like, start a fire," Poland turned to Iceland and Hong Kong. "Both of you, like, go look for some twigs and, like, shit so you can start one."

"Right," Iceland murmured, and he and Hong Kong stalked off into the jungle, keeping their eyes wide open and looking for potential sticks and leaves that could be used to get a fire started.

"So...You and your brother. Are you two close?" Hong Kong asked as he bent down to pick up a few.

"You could say that," Iceland said absentmindedly, trailing his fingers over the top of a row of bushes, "Though I really don't like to talk about it."

"I understand," Hong Kong nodded, "My big brother, China, is, like, super crazy. If Norway is, like, anything like him those two should, like, hit it off."

"If they ever meet," Iceland mumbled, shrugging one shoulder and picking up some twigs as well.

"Which I hope they do," Hong Kong said, "Wait, no, I take it back. Those two would, like, bring 'over' to the word 'protective' and combine it with 'hell.'"

Iceland hummed in resonse as he scooped up more twigs and sticks, but Hong Kong grabbed his hand softly and he looked up to find him staring at him with determination in his eyes.

"I swear on my life, Iceland, that I will, like, protect you and your family," His voice and eyes were dead serious and not once did his eyes waver from Iceland's face. Iceland blinked, then asked the question that had been bothering him.

"Why me?"

Hong Kong cocked his head to the side, as if asking what Iceland meant by that. Iceland took a breath and let the words tumble out,

"I mean, you're taking an interest to me and it's kind of freaking me out, but I just want to know why you promise to protect me and my family when you should be taking care of your own."

Hong Kong raised both eyes, then smiled.

"Because I find you interesting, Ice."

"But _why_?" Iceland pushd.

"Can't you just, like, take that for an answer?"

"No, I can't," Iceland said, yanking his wrist free from Hong Kong's grip, "If you really want to ask me, I think your interest makes no sense at all. Why me? I'm just..."

"Beautiful," Hong Kong finished for him. Iceland shook his head and mumbled a half-hearted "no" but it was a fruitless attempt; Hong Kong was already walking back in the direction of the camp.

The Icelander followed him, to the point of the jungle where it began to thin into sand when Hong Kong turned around suddenly.

"If your brother dies..." Hong Kong seemed hesitant. "I'll be there."

"I know. You already said," Iceland sighed, raising an eyebrow, not really wanting to think of a possibility of Norway dying, "You really need to say that twice?"

Hong Kong froze, then leaned closer to Iceland and dropped all the twigs to floor, wrapping his arms around his neck and forcing Iceland into his chest.

"Hey-what-I don;t get it-"

Hong Kong interrupted him by placing a soft yet firm kiss on Iceland's lips.

"What-the-heck-"

But Hong Kong had already turned away and scooping up the twigs and sticks, walking back to where Canada was trying to arrange a small circle of stones with an empty space in the middle for them.

Iceland stood there in shock, mouth wide open as his brain just processed what the check just happened, why it happened, and a bunch of other stuff his brain was currently turning into sludge.

He began to walk over to the camp as well, eyes training on Canada, trying to block every thought of what just happened as he focused on the older nation.

He was shivering violently, almost as bad as Norway, who's bandages were now all off as Poland looked up at them expectantly.

"We already have some clean water, but now that, like, you got more water and stuff to, like, start a fire, I can like, clean his wounds knowing we, like, have some back-up water," Poland said as he dipped a strip of Romano's shirt into the clean water they already had and began to dab delicately at Norway's face, then his wounds.

Iceland and Hong Kong both dropped the twigs into place and Iceland looked up at the Asian nation, opening his mouth to say something, though he wasn't exactly sure what, but Hong Kong had turned his back to him.

Iceland stared at the back of his head for a long time before he turned back to face Canada, who was now shaking so badly in the harsh wind that he was struggling to bang the two rocks together to create a spark for the fire.

"I don't think going into the ocean like that while it's this close was good for you," Iceland informed him quietly.

"I know," Canada's teeth chattered, "J-j-just a little c-c-cold is all, I'm u-u-used to it."

Iceland gave a concerned sigh but then shook his head, refocusing on Romano, who was watching Canada with a concerned look in his eyes.

"He's not going to be fine, is he?" Iceland asked him quietly,.

"No, he a-isn't," Romano said quietly, eyes not breaking away from Canada's shivering form, "The water will a-make him even a-colder than he is a-now."

"That is very not good," Iceland sighed, digging his fingers into the sand. There was quiet except from the roaring waves and the panting of Norway, with the occasional chattering of teeth from Canada. France, Denmark, and Sweden were still sleeping soundly as Poland cleaned and changed Norway's bandages. Iceland heard a sniffle from beside him and turned to look at the Italian in surprise- His eyes were wet.

"Do you a-think mi fratello is alright?" Romano asked softly. Iceland was about to say yes when Romano growled sharply, "And a-don't lie to me, I want the a-truth. What do you think-a?"

Iceland took a long moment to think about this. To truly think about it. What did he know about Italy? He surrendered easily. He ran way from problems when he could. He could be afraid and cowardly most times.

But beneath him there was streak of bravery and strength. He had defeated Turkey once. He had fought bravely in World War Two (some parts, anyway). So Iceland answered honestly.

"You know, I really think there is a chance that he really is alive out there. He's strong and can fend for himself, and I'm sure that Germany would protect him if he needed to," Iceland said in a quiet voice.

Romano's figure slumped over as he sobbed into his hands, his cries filling the air and Iceland's ears as he watched Norway drift off uneasily, mouth murmuring words nobody could hear as he closed his eyes to the roaring of waves.


	19. Chapter 19

Iceland at one point dozed off and awoke to find his head in the lap of Romano, who had also nodded. Sitting up rigidly and listening, eyes wide, for the noise that had lulled him asleep-The roar of waves. But they seemed to be absent. He looked out at the ocean. It seemed to shrunk, at least seventy five feet of water, all back.

"Low tide," a voice said from behind him. He turned to see Hong Kong sitting there, eating a slice of an apple and staring out at the soft, lolling waves.

"Ah, okay," Iceland said, nodding. He drew his knees up to his chest and stared out at the ocean, the sunk sinking behind it, making the colors vibrant and surreal, as if they didn't exist to Earth, more like a different planet, really.

"Hong Kong?" Iceland asked quietly. He heard a 'hmm' to signify that the Asian was listening to him, "Why did you kiss me earlier? When we were getting wood?"

There was a pause in the crunching of the apple before another bite could be heard. Iceland watched wave after wave roll calmly in contrast to it's violence earlier.

"I guess because I, like, felt like it," Hong Kong answered smoothly and casually. Iceland scoffed.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously."

"Oh my god," Iceland groaned, rolling his eyes, "So you have no other reason for kissing me besides 'I felt like it?'"

"That, and you're adorable, but yeah, like, pretty much," Hong Kong said, and out of the corner of his eye Iceland saw him shrugging his shoulders in an uncaring way.

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Iceland grumbled. He focused his attention on the others, England, France, and Sweden, all tending to a fire and boiling water, Denmark and Poland further along the beach and carrying what looked like pineapples towards them. Canada and Norway were laying next to each other, and Romano was asleep, slumped against a log.

Norway's breathing had calmed down considerably, and appeared to be sleeping more than dead as he had been hours earlier. The left side of his face was wrapped heavily in bandages that Iceland could see pink through-It was obviously still bleeding.

He could not tell if Canada was awake or not. His eyes were close but occasionally they would flutter as he gave a short cough, wrapped in France's jacket, yet shivering.

"Is he sick?" Iceland asked the Frenchman, who was closest to him. France looked over towards him, concerned.

"Very sick, Petilande."

"My name is Iceland," Iceland said coolly, plucking an apple from France's hands. France rolled his eyes, muttering a half-hearted "whatever" as he returned his attention to the fire.

Iceland felt a hand on his back and he looked over his shoulder to see Hong Kong sitting behind him, offering a half of coconut shell.

"Here's some water, you look dehydrated, and, like, starving," Hong Kong said.

"If I am starving, I'm supposed to eat before drinking," Iceland responded coolly, taking a bite from his apple and chewing slowly. He noticed it lacked no significant taste, as an apple usually would, but he shrugged this fact aside. He would rather not think of that.

Poland and Denmark were back at the camp, dumping their fruits into a pile and sitting down, both looking exhausted. England grabbed a pineapple at once and began trying to slice through it with a sharpened and whittled stick.

"I miss home," Denmark said, looking up at Iceland and flashing him half of a smile, "Don't you, Ice?"

"Yeah, I do," Iceland murmured, rubbing the side of his face with his hand and feeling the soft flesh beneath it, "I miss warmth, and food."

"You have food right there," Denmark said, nodding to the apple.

"Actual food, not just fruits, I'm getting sick of fruits," Iceland scowled at the apple.

"You and me both, kid," Poland commented, stretching out, "I, like, never thought I would say this but, like, I could use some vegetables right now. I'm, like, getting sick of all this sweet stuff."

"There were carrots and cabbage near the cave we were in," England said from behind Poland.

"Really? Can you, like, show it to me?"

"Yeah, then we can get some more food...There was also a lake, so maybe we could get fish as well?" England suggested.

"How? We don't have rods," France asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"No, but we have Iceland," Denmark said, grinning, "Nor taught him how to catch a fish with his own hands."

"Really?" Poland asked him curiously. Iceland nodded, feeling the tips of his ears turn red.

"Well, then, let's go," England said, and kicked off the jacket he had lain over his legs.

"Now?" Iceland asked, raising both eyebrows.

"Of course, while there's still some daylight," England nodded, helping Poland to his feet. Iceland nodded, choosing not to question the matter further, and got to his feet. He followed the two older blondes into the jungle, but at the perimeter he felt a hand lightly graze his shoulder. Shivering slightly at the touch, Iceland looked back to see Hong Kong.

"What?" he asked irritably.

"Be careful," Hong Kong said quietly, pecking him on the cheek and turning to race back to the camp. Iceland felt his cheeks burn bright pink and he hurried after Poland and England.

"The cave is near hear, and there's a vegetable patch around here," England informed them as they walked, "And a lake."

"Okay."

As they walked, ducking underneath low branched and jumping over gnarled, tangled roots, Poland turned to Iceland.

"I'm, like, sorry about your brother."

"Is he going to live?" Iceland asked, stepping carefully over a hole as to not fall as he had done previously. Poland pursed his lips, pondering the question.

"I...I'm not, like, really sure," He said after a moment of thinking, and jumped over a thick, jutting root, "As long as it does not, like, infect too bad then he should, like, be fine as long as he, like, keeps hydrated and eats."

"That's good," Iceland said, trying to not imagine a scenario where the wounds did infect. He held a branch up for Poland to duck under before going under himself. "What do you want to do as soon as you get out of here?"

"I want to find Lithuania," Poland answered automatically, "I want to find Liet. "

"That's...His name is Toris, isn't it?" Iceland asked curiously. "His human name?"

"Yeah, and mine is Feliks,"Poland nodded, "I think I can, like, trust you with my name."

"Me too," Iceland said, holding his hand out for the Polish man to shake, "My name is Emil."

"Feliks."

"Nice to meet you, Emil."

"The same goes to you, Feliks."

Allowing himself a small smile, Iceland continued to follow England. They soon arrived to a small, dark opening inside a large, jutting rock, presumably the cave England, Canada, and Hong Kong had been.

"The vegetable patch is right there," England said pointing to a patch of darker green than the lighter green around it, "And there's a lake over there-" he jabbed his thumb to the direct left "-and a small river over there where you can look if there's no fish in the lake-" at this pointed he pointed somewhere to the southwest, judging by the direction the sun was setting.

"We should split up," Iceland suggested. "I'll take the lake, and Poland can do the river. You'll get the veggies?"

"Sue," England nodded, and the three headed their separate ways.

It did not take long for Iceland to find the lake- The greens of the jungle began to grow darker and lusher with each footstep and the dirt began to grow more moist until it turned into full-out mud. Here he stood at the bank of a small lake.

Iceland walked around the parameter of the lake, looking into the water, the surface which was clear but deeper dark mud coated the bottom. He climbed onto a few semi-wet rocks and clutched onto them, peering deeply into the lake, watching for any sort of life inside it.

For five minutes he stood still, eyes scanning the area for even the smallest flash of a fin, the shift of mud below, a disturbance in the water. When he saw non, he opted to taking a few rocks and dropping them in various places, looking for the scatter of fish that was bound to come once their resting place was disturbed.

However, when not even the smallest shift was spotted, he concluded that no fish was in the lake and began to walk to where he thought the cave was.

Where he thought it was.

But after ten or fifteen minutes of endless wandering, Iceland began to question his sense of direction. He should have spotted the dark outcrop of stone by now, but he had not.

Head whipping around in slight fear, he began to look for telltale signs that he was heading in the right direction, but nothing looked familiar. It wasn't like he could walk back to the beach either, because the three of them had lost sight of the beach a half hour before.

"England? Feliks?" Iceland called, listening to his voice echoing around. When he received no answer, he began to panic slightly. Spinning around in a circle, Iceland began to shout their names desperately.

"ENGLAND! FELIKS! I'M LOST!"

Their names did nothing but echo around and the person the names belonged to did not show up either. Racing through the dense growth of the jungle, Iceland began to shout their names even louder, trying to hear them, see them, anything.

He received no reply from either of them. Calmly assuring himself he had probably just gone the wrong direction, Iceland began to calm his panicking nerves and slowed to a halt.

'I'll find the lake,' he thought, breathing heavily, 'And from there I'll look.'

He began walking back, stepping over large rocks he couldn't kick aside and twisted branches that had fallen to the ground. Iceland kept his hands clenched by his sides, trying not to panic at all, but was failing slightly at this, as they were shaking roughly.

Twenty minutes.

Thirty minutes.

The sky was darkening fast.

He had not found the lake yet.

No sign of the lake.

No mud, and he could hardly see the colors of the greens. Iceland took deep breaths, eyes scanning everything carefully, looking for any possible footsteps he had left behind, but finding none.

Hot tears began to stream down his face as his heart beat sped up. If he couldn't find Poland or England, it would be hell. He wouldn't be able to find his way back. He would surely perish out here in the jungle, and who knew what was in here?

His foot snagged on a bramble and he fell over, throwing his arms out and landing roughly on his hands. Blinking at how close his nose was to the ground, Iceland pushed himself to his knees, wiping the dirt off on his pants and breathing loudly, heavily, before sobs broke out and he buried his face inside his hands, half-sobbing, half-screaming.

Where were they? Where was he? He rubbed his face before straightening up, his breaths coming out in terrified gasps. Iceland swallowed large gulps of air, trying to steady his shaking shoulders when he spotted a pale figure flitting into the trees.

Scrambling to his feet at once, Iceland tore through the bushes, eyes scanning for the paleness he had spotted. At once they locked onto a figure a hundred feet away, moving rapidly, nod distinct features could be seen on it.

Heart hammering against his rib cage at an unhealthy pace, Iceland ripped forward, racing through bushes and leaping over every obstacle he encountered.

"Poland?!" He called, "England?!"

The figure sped up.

"NO! WAIT! IT'S ME!" He shrieked, his vocal cords vibrating with the high pitch he had reached at this point. Iceland sped up and ran faster and faster, the colors of everything blurring together, when he tripped over something-a branch, maybe- and fell to the ground, the world tumbling and spinning around him, and he couldn't tell which was up and which was down.

It took him minutes to regain his surroundings. His breath was the only thing he could hear for the time being. Then slowly, pain flooded in, followed by the sounds of crickets chirping near him. Raising his head, he saw the cave. Feeling relief surge through him, Iceland got to his feet, ignoring the pain in his stomach, and began to walk to the vegetable patch he knew England was.

However, the Brit was not there. Feeling panic flood through him once again, Iceland forced himself to stay calm as he walked in the direction of the river.

After a few minutes he could hear the steady trickle of water, and saw a calm river ahead, with brightly colored fish flitting between rocks and patches of grass, yet he could not see Poland.

His heartbeat picking up once again, Iceland looked around.

"Poland?"

His call was met with silence. Walking deeper, Iceland kept his eyes alert, looking for the blonde hair of either England or Poland, a contrast to the green of everything else.

"Poland?"

He was yet again met with no response. Ducking under a low branch, Iceland called again.

"Poland?"

He was met this time with a long, rattling breath, and a weak cough. Iceland froze, not daring to move. He stood there, counting the seconds in his head as he listened intently. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.

Fifteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds he stood frozen, listening, waiting, but he heard nothing else and the sky was beginning to darken even more.

Iceland took a step forward, feeling his heart jump and his nerves rush in terror as he did so, breath hitching. He began to walk slowly, afraid if he walked faster something would leap out and attack him.

He then spotted something swaying through the darkness. Squinting slightly, he rushed forward, and what he saw made him scream loudly, echoing and tearing through his vocal cords.

Hanging from the tree by his foot, a dark hole right through his stomach where a jagged stick was sticking through, blonde hair soaked in dark red, green eyes wide and lips parted, arms dangling limply, was Poland, eyes glassy and the obvious source of the rattling breath from before.

But he wasn't breathing anymore.


	20. Chapter 20

**_~This feels more like a Hetalia horro story than HongIce. :/ I'm trying to include more, I promise! Maybe I should just change it to a regular story with HongIce in it? Because this doesn't really seem like HongIce.~_**

Iceland screamed and screamed and screamed until he felt like his vocal cords and throat were going to shred and tear. Even after he stopped screaming he reduced to have shrieking and half sobbing into his hands, each breath painful in his chest as he took every sharp breath.

"Iceland?!" An accented voice shouted and a pale-faced England tore out of the bushes. There was a moment in which the Brit locked his eyes on the limp, dangling figure of Poland, suspended in the air by his foot, before he gagged and threw up all over the ground, narrowly avoiding Iceland. Iceland gave another shriek and panted hard, closing his eyes as he heard the upchuck hitting the ground.

England straightened up, pale, and looked at Poland again before a scream tumbled out of his lips and the two of the sat there, screaming in horror and disgust as Poland continued to sway slightly in the wind, blood seeping from the wide hole in his stomach and watery, white contents seeping out slowly onto the ground, the slimy ends of intestines poking out.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM US?" England shrieked, gasping loudly as he got to his feet and rounded around, eyes wide as he looked for a sign of life, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM US YOU BITCH?!"

Iceland continued to half-gasp and half-shriek into his hands, tugging at his hair as he panted, not daring to look up at Poland but the puddle of blood and...And whatever the hell the white substance was with a mixture of what looked like splintered bone and skin on the ground was enough to remind him of the situation.

There was a burning in the back of his throat and Iceland turned away, throwing up and looking at the contents of whatever had been in his stomach- Some fish and an apple. gagging violently, Iceland retched until there was nothing more to spill, and England's screams still filled the air.

Iceland looked back up at Poland. His mouth was agape and clear liquid was flowing out, eyes had been blackened in a few short minutes-from what he didn't know- and he looked pale, as if all the blood had been drained from his body in a short amount of minutes. gagging again, Iceland retched, having nothing more in his stomach to empty.

"WHAT-DO-YOU-WANT?!" England shrieked, pounding on a nearby tree, running his hands through his hair and screaming.

"England," Iceland choked.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT? WHAT DID WE DO TO YOU? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?"

"England."

England continued screaming, and Iceland felt another panic attack coming- If England, a former empire, a former pirate, an adult with hundreds of years more experience than he himself was panicking, was afraid, then Iceland definitely was. It made him feel as if everything in the world was supremely larger than him and he was a tiny ant, waiting to be squashed.

"FIRST YOU TAKE AMERICA," England shouted, his voice cracking as it reached a high pitch that made Iceland's ears ring, "AND THEN YOU TAKE-"

He seemed unable to say anymore as he stumbled over, throwing up again as he clenched a branch of a nearby tree. Iceland, still breathing heavily, gagged once again as he felt Poland's fingertips brush over the top of his head, the limp body being blown about easily by the strong wind.

The two sat there for minutes. A minute felt like a year. The minutes stretched into an hour. The moon shone bright above the sky, casting the gory and ghastly scene in a frightening, shivery silvery. Iceland used to think of the moon as a sign of calmness, tranquility.

Now he wasn't so sure.

Now it represented the horror of the darkness, of the unknown, of, of...

Of this hell.

Eventually the two calmed down, but they both avoided looking at Poland. Iceland tried not to look up. He tried not to think. He tried not to do anything.

They sat for several hours. Iceland thought that if he had a watch it would maybe be about midnight now. After a few seconds England spoke.

"It's a trap," he muttered. Iceland could barely make out what he said, "He got caught in a trap just like Denmark, see?"

"It doesn't look like he was killed by a simple trap," Iceland whispered, unable to bring his voice higher than that. There was a few more moments of silence.

"He was murdered."

Iceland looked up and squinted at England. He was hunched over, hands gripping his hair.

"He was murdered. No simple trap could do that. There's somebody here. There's somebody hunting us."

Iceland just stared. He didn't want to think that there could be somebody hiding in the trees as they spoke, waiting to kill, to prey. There was silence before Iceland spotted something moving in the distance. Squinting, he tapped England on the shoulder and nodded to it.

The Brit turned his attention and they stared. After a minute Iceland realized it was bright and orange, and then he realized it was fire. Several different fires, drawing closer.

"Iceland?" A faint voice called. "England?"

Iceland got shakily to his feet, almost stepping in the smelling puddle of sick, and staggered forward, squinting. There were three figures. One was short, with blonde hair and half of it's face obscured in white bandages. The other was slightly taller, with dark hair and wild curl. The other was slightly taller than the one with the dark hair, blonde hair in shoulder-length waves.

Norway, Romano, and France.

"N-Norway?" Iceland whispered roughly. Of course they didn't hear him. Neither he or England wanted to speak. Not now. Not after what they just found.

The fires drew closer and France's voice said,

"I see Iceland! And Angleterre!"

Iceland sank to his knees, shoulders shaking as the fires drew closer. The three of them were all carrying torches, or at least, what looked like torches. As they drew closer, he heard Romano swear, France retch violently and Norway's breath hitch.

There was moment.

Then France threw up, and Romano yelled, and Norway dropped the torch in shock and fear at the sight before them, the gory, the horrifying, the revolting sight of Poland.

"DAMMIT!" Romano shrieked. "DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT!"

The fire caught onto a bush, and it began to spread quickly, creeping up a tree as they all watched. Iceland stared at Norway. He was alive, he looked pale, but he seemed alright. Something like relief seeped throughout only to be replaced by terror as he realized what was happening.

"Ice," Norway said loudly, "Ice!"

But Iceland and England were already on their feet and stumbling, stumbling away as the fire spread quickly, it's heat causing Iceland's skin to prickle uncomfortable. Iceland raced towards Norway and threw his arms around him, sobbing once again that day, but Norway pushed him off.

"We need to go!" He said loudly, bumping into Romano, still swearing. They all began to run as fast as they could, the fire spreading quickly, brightly lighting the forest and making it easier to see. Fifty feet from where the fire was, Iceland looked back.

"Poland!"

"We can't take his body, let's go!" France said, violently shuddering as they ran. Romano and France were still clutching their torches, but as they ran through the leaves and bushes they caught several things on fire until England screamed at them to just drop it.

Iceland bumped into something, live and breathing, but he didn't give it much thought as he barreled past it, only one thing in his mind: To run, to escape, don't get caught, don't get burned, as far from the fire as possible.

The heat was making him caught as he squinted through the heat haze, looking for the signs of the beach and spotting a strip of it ahead. Pumping his legs faster and leaping over branches and stone, Iceland continued to run, run, run, run, runrunrunrunrunrun-

"FRANCE!" A voice shrieked ahead. Canada stood there, face bright with fever, glasses askew as he stared at something over his shoulder. Iceland looked back. France had tripped, had been the thing he had run into. The fire was creeping upon him with lightning speed, the wind only speeding up it's progress.

Canada stood just outside the jungle, eyes wide as Iceland continued to run.

"FRANCE!"

"GET TO THE WATER!" France screamed at him, "AWAY FROM THE FIRE!"

The French nation struggled to his feet, but his foot was snagged in a thicket.

"FATHER!" Canada screamed, running into the forest and shoving past Iceland. "FATHER!"

Iceland stumbled out onto beach, coughing violently from the smoke, Norway tumbling after him, supporting Romano, who's leg was bleeding. England soon ripped out of the trees, blinking groggily only to turn back around and shout,

"CANADA! FRANCE!"

The fire was ablaze, and had already spread quickly, burning everything in it's past, making everything bright like a bonfire.

"Nor!" Denmark shrieked from behind but Iceland could only focus in fear on the jungle. Where was Canada? France? The was silence except for the cackling of the fire, drowning out the sounds of the waves.

"Ice-" A hand was placed on his shoulder but Iceland shrugged it off, scrambling to his feet. France, Canada-

"Ice, get back-"

Iceland surged forward, past England-

"ICE-"

Both he and England entered the blazing jungle, eyes alert for both. England was looking for them because they were his family. Iceland didn't know why he was looking. Then he remembered France had been one to try and find food and water for them both, and that he had looked heartbroken when America had died, and Iceland needed to find France and Canada both as some sort of debt-

A cough sounded to his right and Iceland looked to see the Frenchman on the ground, face blackened with soot. Iceland extended a hand to help him up but England got as close to the fire as he dared, yelling,

"CANADA! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

Iceland helped France to his feet and began to drag him back to the camp, covering his face with the remains of his filthy shirt, coughing in the heat, but France tugged his wrist from Iceland's grip, looking out at the fire.

"CANADA!"

"W-we have to g-go!" Iceland yelled at them, but the two men surged forward, paying him no attention, both yelling Canada's name. The Canadian was nowhere to be seen, to be found, and Iceland rushed forward, his skin prickling in the heat as he grabbed onto both of their shirts.

"Guys-the fire-Canada's gone!" He panted, face sweltering in the close proximity to the heat. England looked back, eyes wide, as a flaming branch fell and the three of them ducked out of it's way.

"H-he's right F-France," England told France, shuddering violently. France stared into the fire.

"Come on, before we get killed."

"No-Canada-"

"WE NEED TO GO!" A voice screamed from behind and Iceland felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and yank him backwards. England grabbed France's upper arm and tugged.

"You wanker, let's go-"

"No, I need-Canada- I need to-"

"YOU GIT, HE'S DEAD!" England shrieked at him, wheeling him around to face him, "GET IT THROUGH YOUR BLOODY HEAD, HE'S DEAD AND WE NEED TO GO BEFORE WE'RE DEAD TOO!"

"HE'S MY SON!" France roared at him, "AND I AM NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND!"

"YOU HAVE NO CHOICE!" The voice of Hong Kong shrieked, and the arms tightened around his waist, "HE'S DEAD AND, LIKE, IF YOU WANT TO LIVE THEN YOU BETTER FUCKING GET OUT RIGHT NOW!"

"No-" France screamed as England grabbed onto him, yanking him from the fire and dragging him, "No-no-no-NO! CANADA! CANADA!"

"HE'S DEAD!" Iceland shrieked as he was dragged from the fire, onto the beach, away as he was forced near the water and thrown on the ground, looking up into the face of Hong Kong, who looked furious.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?! YOU COULD HAVE DIED-"

England and France burst from the jungle, France's face soaked in tears as he struggled to wrestle from England's grip as the two made their way to the water. Norway and Denmark, Sweden, Romano, Iceland, and Hong Kong watched as the two made their way to the water and collapsed onto the ground.

It took them all a moment to realized that France was not the only one crying but England was crying as well. The fire blazed brightly, illuminating the two hunched figured as they sobbed, clinging to one another.

"He's a-dead," Romano choked out from behind him. "That's America, a-Finland, P-Poland, and Canada. That's-a f-four."

Iceland could only stare at the fire that was drawing closer. The sky was lightening as well. It didn't make sense. It was still maybe only three in the morning. Why was the sky getting lighter?

The sky soon blazed white, brighter than even the fire as they all continued their crying and sobbing and shrieking. It took Iceland a moment to realize he was crying as well. Hong Kong sank down onto his knees and wrapped his arms around Iceland and he buried his face into his chest, violently sobbing.

How many deaths has he witnessed? How many horrors has he faced in the single week? Were they being hunted?

He was shaking so hard it wasn't even funny as the sky continued to burn white. The ground suddenly looked like pixels, and he stared as it whitened and lightened, looking surreal.

"Is it 'v'r?" Sweden's voice murmured from behind. Iceland could only cling to Hong Kong as the world continued to whiten. They were all too shocked to say anything. They were all frightened.

Soon they might all be dead.

Iceland sobbed into Hong Kong's arms once again. He was so sick of this he wanted to die he just wanted it to be over it was a horror and how many more were they going to face and-

The world was gone. It was all blurry white. Iceland felt like he was being squeezed into a tight space.

And then he woke up clinging to nothing. The others sat around him, all looking pale and sweaty, all with tear tracks on their faces as they regained their surroundings.

He was staring at the face of a blonde woman with dark eyes and wore dark blue clothing.

The same woman that had sent them there in the first place.


End file.
